Resurrecting Death
by SithLord78
Summary: Years before the Yuuzhan Vong War, a Jedi hopeful trained at the Praxeum. When the Vong invaded, she felt betrayed by Skywalker. Using an ancient Sith artifact that contains the spirit of its author, she seeks its powers in revenge against the Jedi.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

A darkened, bitter world orbited a dying star in a dark sector of the Deep Core. Cold and lifeless, no Republic or Imperial ship had dared venture in this area of the Known Galaxy, neither had this planet shown on any Republic or Imperial charts since space-faring civilizations first took flight throughout the Galaxy. From this planet existed a vacuum of decay and rot, no life could exist close to this planet lest they succumb to the morbid dark side energies that emanated from the primordial world.

Roth existed as a gray world of death, devoid of life and sustenance. Its history had been rich and ancient yet its death came quick and painful. No traces of civilization existed on this world as vicious, violent and unpredictable storms boiled across its surface like a Huttese temper. Acidic rains and unnaturally heated lightning scarred the surface whose ferocious fauna seemed immune to the beatings. Roth, as well as its seven siblings existed in a system whose sun had long ago fizzled into an icy dwarf.

Antediluvian oceans of this once lush world had formed into ashen goo; stagnate and rot. From orbit, land and ocean could not be discerned as the former continents had decayed into marshy bogs and putrid forests. Any who stumbled across Roth found themselves lost and disoriented; the planet took any life as the navigators entered orbit. A few ships of junk orbited around the orb like artificial moons awaiting their fate to be snuffed out by Roth's gravity. Despite modern life support systems, bodies of the zealous died in where they sat never claiming what rewards they may have sought. Roth's ancient secrets remained forever sealed as its promises led to demise. It was here that darkness incarnate was entombed.

A singular transport ship entered Roth's star system in a blinding shimmer of light. The vessel's sub light engines kicked in with a roaring, violet flame from its exhaust ports. Klaxons blared inside the cockpit alerting the occupants to a sudden discharge of the craft's shields.

"What the hell is going on?" A female voice shrieked.

"We've lost our shields when we exited hyperspace. Give me a few moments to restore them," proclaimed a male voice.

A graceful, pale hand reached from behind the neck of the male pilot, terminating in a vibroblade that flexed the skin above the man's collar. Another hand of equal beauty concluded with raven fingernails, glided across the white-shirted chest of the pilot's jumpsuit. The perihelion of the white dwarf loomed in the distance foreshadowing the fates of those who came before. Dark, lifeless orbs of rocky ice and dust remained inanimate in orbit, like ghosts wandering an old graveyard.

"Get our shields up now, before I have to use this." The female voice ordered.

"Yes mistress, I'll need about five minutes."

"You have three." A raven haired female graced her face upon the cheek of the male pilot, her ebony lips opened up to reveal a shiny crimson tongue which leeched upon the man's ear in temptation before retreating the weapon with her arms. Her curvaceous form slinked away to exit the cockpit through the egress door which strained in a hiss. The male pilot sighed in relief as his passenger removed herself from his domain.

Three other females awaited in the antechambers of the cargo hold; two other humans and the last, a Twi'lek-Zabrakian half-breed of a red tinted pigment. The commandeering woman kneeled upon the floor to join her companions. She had been dressed in a sheer, shapely dress of a raven color accentuating her curves and features of a medium height frame. The dress discreetly covered features while exposing her navel and lower back through the mesh fabric. A rudimentary Sith tattoo graced across her navel visible through the mesh material. The two other human females appeared clothed similarly. A fiery redhead woman featured an elegantly adorned raven dress, featuring her buxom figure, her Sith tattoo exposed briefly across the top of her cleavage. The dress crisscrossed across the front of her chest, exposing her pale skinned navel and amplifying her features. The other female whose hair had been accented in a violet hue, wore a subtle yet sheer raven dress ensemble which outlined her thin frame covering her more discernibly. A Sith tattoo adorned the nape of her neck. A crossbreed Zabrak-Twi'lek had been formed by a small frame as her lekku were adorned with the trademark vestigial horns of her other cross species. She was clothed with a see-through raven dress that exposed a small tattoo across the small of her back, marking a rudimentary Sith design.

The foursome huddled upon the durasteel floor around an ancient leather-bound tome. The cover had been etched with an ancient language that seemed almost indecipherable, its pages aged with a grimy, yellow tint while the covers were manufactured from livestock hides. Its age should have disgraced it with tatters yet it appeared nearly mint-condition. All three women entered upon a deep meditation as the lead woman reentered her dark trance.

"I can feel the darkness of Roth permeating us, my sisters. Soon, we will be in touch with its Master. The darkness consumes us. Let the fires of death control us, with this power, the Jedi shall be vanquished."

Sirens continued to blare for a few minutes as the women continued their meditations. The male pilot hurriedly worked to cease the alerts and regain shield strength, lest he become the victim of his mistress's blade.

"No job should pay this scrap," he cursed under his breath, "I just hope she can't read my thoughts."

The pilot's thoughts cursed and blasphemed his contract. Another alert came across his viewscreen reflecting that hull integrity had fallen to ninety-percent as space dust and debris had collided with his vessel. A worried look appeared across his face as the astrogation charts echoed Roth's approach over a thousand clicks away. Zayne Dax had been an experienced pilot for the New Republic, having served during the Yuuzhan Vong war and a survivor of the Battle of Sernpidal with his squad commander Kyp Durron. After the war and the formation of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, Dax had gone into the private sector; running cargo and passengers aboard his slightly used, modified YT-2000 transport. This was a most unusual fare.

Zayne had no time for this current conflict as the galaxy had been embroiled in a Second Galactic Civil War. Zayne tired of fighting, and had known nothing but war in his days. His father told him of the Clone Wars where he had served as a non-clone officer during the Second Battle of Coruscant and the ensuing Galactic Civil War as an officer of the Galactic Empire. He had heard the heralding adventures of Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi only to have ended abruptly when two Sith Lords had murdered the pair along with their Jedi counterparts thus creating the Galactic Empire. Palpatine strongly catapulted the propaganda.

Myron Dax had no time for family under Palpatine's Empire. He was neither loyal to any government, only loyal to his galaxy and the citizens therein. A few years after the Galactic Civil War, he wed, and fathered Zayne. He instilled into Zayne the same ideals; _serve your galaxy, not your government._ Now Zayne, in his early thirties had chartered this vessel _The Red Dawn_, from a Toydarian trader on Nal Hutta to which he was entitled to provide sixty percent of his profits. In the years following the Vong invasion, Nal Hutta and its neighboring moon crept slowly into the control of a few petty criminals. The surviving and remaining Hutts assessed their damages and returned their affairs into the black-market revitalization of their home world. Zayne's early fares had gone well, nothing unusual; political refugees, traders and merchants. The latest passengers had been his toughest yet.

Tera had been the harshest of the four, and apparently their leader. Her voluptuous figure enticed Zayne as she had swaggered her way toward him in a seedy smuggler's cantina. _No questions_ had been the only caveat. Transport the quadruplet group to a remote planet far into the Deep Core, riches greater than any he could imagine was his recompense. Her reputation preceded her, as Zayne had heard from various spacers about her sultry exploits.

The Deep Core, more treacherous than navigating The Maw and only a few pilots and captains with credits in their eyes and fear in their hearts dared to venture here. Imperial and Republic astrogation charts provided no information as most were forgotten due to the risky hyperspace paths and strong gravitational wells from the surviving stars. Too close or a misguided hyperspace jump and the event horizon of the Galactic Black Hole could disorient any navcomputers causing the wayfarers to be consumed by the very fabric of space-time.

This system existed upon that black abyss. Klaxons blared to signal loss of shields and data corruption of the navcomputer. Tera's promise of reward was accompanied by her slinking, pink tongue worming its way across his lips at that seedy cantina in the lowly nightlife of Nar Shaddaa. Dressed in only a seductive red dress which seemed that her form was vacuum pressed into it, he recalled her sultry words enticing him into believing the reward was her.

Zayne rubbed his youthful chin that despised his age as a veteran of the Yuuzhan Vong war. Auburn hair graced the top of his head accentuating a pair of hazel eyes. His flight suit had been characterized with a white buttoned shirt and a pair of khaki colored pants held up by a black belt made of animal hide.

"Zordo had already received his share of this trip. I don't think I'll be seeing him again. By the Force, I mean that," Zayne thought to himself. As the approach to Roth crept into the view of _The Red Dawn_, Tera graced her way into the co-pilot's seat. She faced Zayne with a seductive pose, crossing her legs inside her dark skirt.

"How much longer," she asked.

"If these charts are right, that orb to our right should be your planet."

Tera glanced through the transparisteel viewport with emerald emblazoned eyes. Distant darkness permeated the cockpit illuminated only by the display lights and ever-present ruby alerts. Zayne had managed to silence the alarm system to gather his thoughts. The cold, white dwarf shone little light amongst its children as a withering mother lay on her death bed; the suckling children craving that last trickle of mother's life-giving milk. Tera closed her eyes to concentrate amongst the expanse of space. She could feel the cold decay of this system. History faded and forgot this planet. Her emerald eyes twinkled slightly in the white shimmer coming from the fallen sun. She leered toward Zayne, and pecked a raven kiss on his cheek.

Her nearly translucent hand moved across Zayne's chest nearly pricking apart his buttons, an astonished smirk came across his face as she began to seductively chant in the Sith tongue into his ear. With each arcane syllable, Zayne felt unnerved before grabbing her face with both hands and returning a passionate kiss on her lips. She fought her way out of his embrace and with a quick swipe; four bloodied scratch marks scarred his right cheek.

"By Sidious, you don't touch me!" She yelled, laughing wickedly. Tera propelled her voluptuous figure from the co-pilot's chair, her lustrous dress swished with the seductive movements of her hips as she charmingly detached herself from the cockpit. Zayne reached for a med kit underneath his pilot console, removed a sterile pad and applied it to his scarred face.

"Pretentious Hutt-slave," he muttered as he taped the pad upon his visage. The chamber door hissed open, revealing a silver and cobalt tinged protocol droid. The droid seated itself next to Zayne in the co-pilot's chair. He spoke with a common Basic accent programmed with most Cybot Galactica models of his function.

"Master, I've stabilized the shield generators and realigned the gravity generators. I calculate that our successful navigation of this system is approximately ninety-five percent."

"Thanks, See-ThreeQue Eight."

Zayne glanced in the direction of his console. The readout displaying the shield levels had gradually begun to rebuild. A red progress meter advanced to golden tint climbing steadily toward one-hundred percent.

"You've observed those girls, what can you tell me about them?"

"Master, it is not in my parameters to spy on our cargo."

"I didn't ask you to spy on them," Zayne glared.

"Master, I believe the one named Tera, keeps rambling on about a great power of the Force that resides in this system. Though, I must admit that my programming does not permit me to fully understand this concept known as 'The Force'."

"What do you know about this system? It doesn't appear on any navigation charts."

"That is correct, sir. This system does not reside on any known Republic or Imperial records. When I interfaced with the navcomputer before our jump, the coordinates returned a null. This system, as with other systems in the Deep Core, is completely unstable. The astrogation charts plot this system too close to Galactic Center. My records indicate that we are dangerously close to the super massive black hole at the true Center of the Galaxy. I calculate that our odds of return to Known Space are twenty-thousand, five hundred fifty to one."

"Great," Zayne sighed heavily, "Where the girls acquired such coordinates, I wonder."

"I believe it has something to do with that ancient writing they protect."

"Remind me again, what our payment is."

"Yes, master. The agreed upon sum for this trip was two hundred and fifty thousand credits, plus extra-curricular rewards; whatever that means. Twenty-percent of payment is yours; twenty-percent for repair and dock fees, sixty-percent is paid to…"

Zayne reached a hand over See-ThreeQue Eight's vocoder to cut him off. He didn't want to be reminded of who his boss was. Not that it mattered. Based on his droid's statistics, he may never return to known space. He knew that he already received his share by means of jewels and other precious items the women mysteriously possessed. The rest was to be paid in Republic credits upon return. Zordo had already received his share; insurance that he would get paid on every trip should Zayne never return on a tariff. Toydarians had ways of swindling money through any means necessary. Zordo's cousin, Watto worked business equally on Tatooine. Shrewd, unscrupulous business dealings ran in the family.

"Sisters, let the darkness of our Master surround us. Soon we will be in His warm embrace," Tera encouraged, standing in the passenger chambers utilizing enchanting syllables in her speech patterns. The other three women lounged amongst the passenger hold of _The Red Dawn_. Their ancient tome rested upon a table in front of the lounging couch where two of the women sat; the redhead and the violet one. The redhead seated herself against the edge of the upholstery, her knees gracing against her chest, arms folded along her shins. Her fiery red hair listed gracefully upon her shoulders, sleek hands culminated in slender, crimson nails.

"I don't care too much for that droid, Tera," the redhead proclaimed.

"Patience, Mandin. Soon the droid and his master will be sacrificed to the greater good of the Sith. "

"Sister Tera," the violet-haired human woman began, doubt expanding in her speech, "we don't even know where we are. How do we know this book even tells the truth?"

Tera engulfed into an enraged flame of anger.

"Sister Cresta, you blaspheme the true power of the dark side?" She raised a hand, extending a finger toward her fellow sister. Tera's face scrunched into a rage of disdain as a single bolt of lightning raced toward Cresta. A small burn etched into Cresta's forearm as she shielded herself from the Sith magic. The stench of burned ozone and flesh wafted into the room as the small spark retracted to origin.

"Force Lightning," proclaimed the fourth sister.

She appeared as a slender, red-skinned Twi-lek-Zabrakian half-breed surprised by the display of dark side powers. She removed herself from her seat to examine the wound on Cresta's arm. Her lekku slinked across her petite shoulders over her raven dress. She began to tend to Cresta's burn with slow licks of her tongue and wipes from her dress.

"Thanks, Hol'en, I should be fine." Cresta comforted the youngest of the coven.

"Master despises your blasphemies," Tera ordered. She paused to recollect her spirits, calming her rage with her fear.

"I can feel the dark side flowing through this ship. Our Master, the Ancient Dark One will see that the Sith prevail. The Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker is preoccupied fighting this new civil war. We are out of the radar of the Jedi Council. We can resurrect this ancient Sith Lord in relative safety. Then, we will swiftly strike at the heart of the Galactic Alliance and reclaim that which is rightfully ours, in the name of Our Almighty."

"So sayeth the One True Sith." The girls chanted in unison to acknowledge their mistress' commands.

Zayne and See-ThreeQue Eight stared over the readouts from the ships displays as the third planet in the system approached upon their vessel. A green meter on one of the displays demonstrated the shields at one hundred percent. See-ThreeQue Eight studied data from the approaching planet.

"Sir, I'm not quite sure, but it would seem that our destination has a most unusual atmospheric composition. Preliminary readings indicate an atmosphere consisting of a seventy-five percent sulfur- methane mixture. The other twenty-five percent consists of carbon and various other toxic elements. I would suggest dropping a sensor probe for further readouts."

With a press of a few buttons, a small flash of light emanated from below _The Red Dawn_. Rockets flared to propel the small probe toward the atmosphere of the destination. The small dot raced toward the surface of Roth, slowly decreasing into a speck from the vantage of Zayne and his droid. The sensor flared as atmosphere embraced the object.

"Sensor online. Atmospheric entry at "T" plus one. Confirm."

"Confirmed." The droid responded.

Zayne reached up to a lever above him as he maintained visual on the speck in the distance. Zayne continued to monitor the readouts coming from the sensor, See-ThreeQue Eight's assumption seemed to correlate with the sensor's data. Without warning, the readouts failed as the screen indicated the probe went offline. Hesitantly, Zayne discarded a second probe from his supply. Within moments of entering atmosphere, the second probe met the same fate as its brethren.

"Impossible. The atmosphere is nearly acidic!" Zayne studied the results in scrutiny.

From orbit, Zayne witnessed a violent volcanic eruption burst upon the surface of Roth spewing fiery magma into the acidic landscape. The sadistic beauty of death mesmerized the droid and for a moment Zayne saw his companion embracing the surreal moment.

"Our passengers won't survive this place. They'll need life suits, but we only have two. Would our shields hold?"

"Based upon the data from the sensor probes, our probability of our shields surviving the rough atmosphere is five-hundred…"

Zayne stopped his droid again, "Tell me in human terms."

"Oh, very well, excuse me. I would say very slim, sir."

"Based upon atmospheric readings of destination, confirm hull expectancy."

"Approximately five hours before hull disintegration begins," See-ThreeQue Eight replied.

"The Corellians believed in Hell, this is probably it. Place the ship in orbit, I'm not entering atmosphere yet."

Disgruntled, Zayne relieved himself of his pilot position and exited the cockpit chambers. He made his way toward the passenger quarters to find his four female passengers cavorting sensually amongst each other. Each of the women seemed to moan in ecstasy in an orgiastic display of dark side presence.

"Would you care to join us?" The flame-haired Mandin asked from amidst her coven, a lone pale finger pointed toward the young pilot, motioning him forward. Mandin's sultry form had been flanked by Tera on her left and Cresta on her right. Hol'en kneeled at Cresta's feet; her lekku slinked like tiny snakes seducing across her shoulders.

"You know you want to," continued Tera, "You never could resist me back at that cantina on Nar Shaddaa." Tera's hands followed Cresta's slender curved violet nails that slinked across Mandin's chest.

Zayne could feel his mind humming in monotonous vibration. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear the sensations darkening his soul. A growling male voice in the bass octave pummeled inside his skull, calling to him from the Force. _Join them, join me._

"What the hell?" Zayne gripped both of his temples between his hands, kneeling onto the floor.

Zayne's eyes appeared to gorge out of his head as the faint laughter of the quadruple set maniacally called into his brain. He focused on the one in the center, Mandin he recalled as his vision became blurry, filled only with hormonal desire.

Tera removed herself from the orgy and strode over toward the disabled pilot, leaning over from behind her victim. Zayne could feel her curvaceous features around his neck; her translucent, icy hands stretching around his head, shoulders and torso motioned him into a sense of desire. Her snake-like tongue tickled his ear through ebony lipstick, her teeth culminated into a small set of canine fangs. She reached her hands toward Zayne's loins to further goad him into her control.

"You will land this ship as I paid you. If you do not, I will remove your manhood with my own teeth." Tera licked at Zayne's ear again, tightening her fist around his genitalia.

"Remember, _no questions_."

"Yes mistress," Zayne muttered.

Tera released her physical and mental hold over Zayne as he collapsed to the floor in relief. His hands fell forward before him to brace his limp body. Zayne coughed and vomited his stomach contents as he regained self-awareness. Slowly he lifted himself to his feet, wiping his face of small bits of bile below his lips. He returned a scorned gaze downward upon Tera's grinning face; her pearly teeth iconoclast to her obsidian lips. Zayne could feel her evil intents through her snide grin. Her stature was a foot shorter than Zayne's. She returned to her flock, relaxed on the passenger chamber couch, this time each of the women in their own part of the couch; Mandin and Cresta on each side, Hol'en sat on the floor beside Cresta while her sharpened violet nails caressed the lekku. Tera dropped her dead weight in exact center of the couch as she faced Zayne.

"Get this ship to surface, toy," She sneered at Zayne as he made his way out of the passenger hold withholding his internal scorn from outward explosion.

"Master Dax, are you ok?" See-ThreeQue Eight requested as his master seated in the pilot's seat.

"I'm fine," he stated rubbing his chest. He touched a hand to the gauze on his cheek where Tera had scratched him earlier.

"We're going to the surface."

"Master, are you sure your calculations are correct?"

"They paid us. We go to the surface. We stay on the ship; we give them four and a half standard hours to return. If they do not, we leave. They never paid us for a return trip. Is the ship ready for atmospheric entry?"

"Yes sir."

Zayne pushed the throttle forward, the engines whined to propel _The Red Dawn_ toward the embodiment of hell. Deceased ships evident of years, centuries of decay and rot floated in a ghostly orbit around Roth. _The Red Dawn_'s experienced pilot zigzagged through the ethereal graveyard amongst the ships that met a dire fate; a fate of which his vessel mysteriously escaped.

With each passing second, Zayne recounted his days fighting for the side of the New Republic. All his valiant battles and glory would mean nothing if he died as a courier. He had questions; his passengers wouldn't allow them. His answers must lie in the ancient bound tome the girls kept closely guarded. Not even his droid, as benign as droids can be, would be allowed near that book.

The world seemed ancient to Zayne. From close orbit, he could make out the outline of ancient continents and the oceans that kissed them. A murky, sulfuric glaze of atmosphere tickled with methane clouds graced the transparisteel viewport of _The Red Dawn_. The friction embrace of atmospheric entry rocked the transport; nothing Zayne hadn't felt before, but this time it was different. As his chronometer recorded the entire trip, the shield meter began to decrease in fractional increments. And thus began his five hour countdown.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Blood trickled across the length of the vibroblade exiting the gaping wound of flesh and scarred, cauterized tissue from the neck of a deceased, overly bloated human male. The wound reeked of putrid blood and burnt flesh as a horrific façade of fear encompassed the face of the dead. The burly man twitched with the final nerve impulses brought upon death's embrace, the deed had been accomplished. A slender, crimson-skinned hand gripped the blade with a tightened ferocity as it plunged into the deceased's left eye socket. A streak of crimson blood erupted from the wound as the crush of flesh and bone tore into the skull, twisting and gutting brain matter.

"This is for my mother, bantha fodder!" An adolescent female voice cried. The vibroblade retracted from the eye. The slender hand moved the weapon toward the cadaver's loins.

"And this is for me you Hutt!"

Blood gushed from the cadaver's manhood as flesh popped and tore from the blade's searing vibrations. Blood and flesh began to seep onto the gray-metal floor. Another pale hand that ended in raven nails grabbed the blade from the young murderer.

"You took the life of one as it had destroyed yours. You have proven yourself to our coven," the voice of Tera echoed upon the room.

"I've never hurt anyone," cried the younger voice.

"He hurt you, Hol'en. He deserved nothing less than death. You killed out of passion, out of anger. You have embraced the darkness to be the fourth that we desire. Join us to awake the One True Sith," Tera cooed.

Tera embraced Hol'en, easing her back onto her feet. Hol'en's silky, emerald dress stained with the blood and flesh of her step-father. Tera stretched a long, slender arm toward the distressed half-breed Twi'lek girl, her open palm faced toward the ceiling. Her long black fingernails clicked as she motioned toward Hol'en. With an equally warm embrace, Hol'en's blood-splattered hand grasped Tera's. Their hands interlocked in comforting solace as Tera guided Hol'en's steps over the fallen predator.

Mandin and Cresta had been waiting outside of the ramshackle apartment that Hol'en had shared with her mother and step-father. Nal Hutta's rampant nightlife trickled across the back alley where the pair waited. Laughter and imbibing echoed across the air that smelled like cheap ales and various viscous body fluids from multitudes of species. A pair of Rodians cavorted in the distance amidst molded trash and the hint of deathsticks seeping their pores.

Hol'en's mother would not return home for days at a time; selling herself and deathsticks to make ends meet. This human was the latest in a series of step-fathers; some human others of races whose hearts were more sinister. Hol'en never knew who her father was, but knew he was a Zabrakian trader that her mother was forced to service. Her mother, on the other hand was a red-tinted Twi'lek who sold herself amongst the sleazy Hutt-controlled cantinas and drug dens. The Twi'lek genes dominated those of her Zabrak father enough to distinguish her as a Twi'lek, even though the Zabrakian horns featured prominently upon her lekku.

Twi'leks cursed her mother for keeping such a baneful child, and no Zabrakian considered her part of their clans. It was Tera and her friends who took to her as a sister. She had only to prove herself.

"When your mother finds this disease of a human, we will be far distant from Nal Hutta," Tera comforted.

"Where are we going from here?" Mandin quested.

"To the moon, Nar Shaddaa. We should be able to find a spacer to take us to our destination. "

_The Red Dawn_ navigated amongst the miasma of sulfur and methane that blanketed Roth in a poisonous mixture. Zayne scrutinized the shield meter as the gauge slowly decreased and regain strength only to diminish again. With each fractional decline in shield integrity, the constant charge of the shield generator gave him two more fractions of time. Prior to entry, Zayne managed to divert enough power to shields to counterbalance the turbulence of atmospheric entry and to propel himself and his consignment to the hazardous surface.

The pale green atmosphere smothered the gray, gooey surface that Zayne presumed to have once been continents. Constant monitoring of the planetary surface by See-ThreeQue Eight revealed that methane gas spewed from gas pockets which gradually erupted upon the shell. What had not been covered by viscous bog was flush with forests of decayed and rotting trees. Relics of ancient, decomposed buildings and desolate civilizations were scarred into a continental forest stretching across the equator in the western hemisphere. A once great city lay in ruin; either from a war long fought in a previous life or from the fester that befell the planet.

"What is this place?" Zayne inquired aloud.

"Sir, I am not versed in the ways of human ideology, but I believe we are as close to the concept of 'Chaos' as can be imagined."

"Impossible. It is only an ideology, not a tangible place. But this planet seems to exist only to serve death. Do you know where we are going?"

"Sir, I believe that our destination lies on the opposite hemisphere, just south of the northern pole."

_The Red Dawn_ veered northward, across the polar plane along a vast bog that had once been a naturally icy ocean. As _The Red Dawn_ cleared upon the northern expanse of grey marsh, an outline of a distant continent appeared upon the left side of the viewport. Caustic rains sizzled across the transparisteel viewports with the sounds of cooked lard as the craft glided across a vast oceanic expanse. A faint continental outline loomed in the distance on the far right side of the viewport.

The majestic ship idled across the atmosphere listing toward the eastern most continent on the horizon. Tera presented her majestic, seductive grace inside the cockpit, running a single finger across the back of Zayne's neck. The pointed nail sent chills down his spine, breaking his concentration.

"What did you want? Can't you see I'm trying to land us safely?"

"We're here." Tera proclaimed.

Tera slithered her ruby tongue along his right ear lobe. Her left hand encompassed the back of Zayne's neck as her right hand slinked across his chest. See-ThreeQue Eight watched in amazement at the perversity of her affection. She turned toward the droid, revealing a sinister grin of pearly white teeth, with slight fangs for canines.

"Sorry, I don't care much for droids. I like my mates to be human. You can keep watching, though."

"Where are we landing?" Zayne regained his composure, "I see miles and miles of faux forestry, I can't land this thing in a swamp either."

"The Force will guide you to your landing." Tera's tongue slithered arcane beliefs.

"I don't believe in the Force," Zayne remembered.

"Karkin' atheist! "

On her proclamation, _The Red Dawn_ violently shifted westerly on the continent. The vessel auto-corrected its position in relation to hemisphere gliding toward a small clearing that had revealed itself amongst the rot and muck. The rotten forests seemed to move away from a patch of cleared almost harvestable land large enough to accommodate a Republic Star Destroyer, almost as if the trees themselves had been controlled by the Force to welcome their arrival.

_The Red Dawn_ extracted its landing gear without manipulation from the pilot or his droid, as called by destiny. With a loud thud, the ship had kissed land. Zayne cursed in his breath. In his many years of being a pilot Zayne had never witnessed a ship land as his had recently done.

"What did you do?"

"I did nothing. This was the work of the One True Sith. He wants us here, Zayne. It is by destiny you landed." An innocent smile widened upon her face. If she had not been a pupil of the dark side, Zayne might have found himself marrying her.

"Destiny my ass! " Zayne released his safety harness and removed himself from his pilot's seat.

A pounding pulse burst inside Zayne's head as pressure in his skull pressed against his eyes. He clutched his temples in reaction, dropping to his knees. His face winced in pain, cheeks darkened as blood rushed in. Zayne clenched his teeth in agony unable to move from his crouched position that migrated into the fetal. See-ThreeQue Eight unexplainably powered down, lifeless and eerily still.

_Be silent, or be silenced. _A sinister, guttural voice reverberated upon the whole of the ship with the force of a planetary quake. Tera dropped to her knees.

"Master," she shouted, crying tears of joy that washed down her face into her makeup.

Zayne gradually recovered his consciousness, his body frigid and stiff, gradually increased to body temperatures. The engines whined and wailed to a stop as Zayne regained his hearing, the perpendicular floor moved in a blur as his sight came back into focus. He remained motionless on the ground, his nerves tingling across his spine and extremities to regain the common touch. His heart thumped away in his chest, pounding softer and slower with each pulse echoing quieter than the last continuing onward toward basic reflex.

Zayne lifted himself off the durasteel floor, only to witness Tera's shapely form retreating from the cockpit. He paused to gaze at her swagger in distrustful spite. Struggling with his increasing strength, he made his way back into the pilot's seat; shaking his head and sighing reliefs. See-ThreeQue Eight rebooted, his vocoder cycling through many of his programmed languages; dialects Zayne had yet to hear reverberated from the droid's mouth slit. His head shook and tilted, servomotors whining with each motion. His oculars glowed, dimmed and brightened in random cycles during the reboot phase.

"Oh dear," See-ThreeQue Eight proclaimed in a wry Basic accent that Zayne recognized as a human accent used amongst most Imperial officers of his father's day. He had heard the same accent before as he faintly remembered speaking on occasion to Her Majesty, Leia Organa Solo's golden droid.

"Are you ok?" Zayne asked.

"I don't know. Beginning programming core scan, now." His voice returned to the standard dialect.

See-ThreeQue Eight dimmed his power consumption to divert power toward his programming core, his ocular sockets flashed repeatedly to signal processing was occurring. After a few moments of self-diagnosis, See-ThreeQue Eight returned with a peculiar statement.

"Sir, I believe I have found a new language in my library. I can't make it out as the language does not appear on any known Imperial or Republic charts. Cross-referencing the consonant-vowel placement, conjugations and sentence structure, the language is obscenely close to that of the Infinite Empire, yet more primitive."

"Infinite Empire? You mean the ancient Rakatan?"

"Yes sir, but it appears to predate them."

"Would you be able to speak it?"

"No sir. My vocoder cannot synthesize this language; I am only capable of synthesizing languages that are in current use. I can only hear it and interpret."

Zayne turned his attention toward the outside view; an olive tinted sky filled with swirling clouds of methane and sulfur. His shields registered ninety-two percent as an acidic bath engulfed the external hull. He flicked a switch to activate the high-intensity lights that dominated the four corners of the cockpit that protruded from the primary hull of the ship. The soupy skies swirled and shifted as if startled by a sudden introduction of life.

He arose from his seat, motioned for his droid to remain and exited toward the passenger quarters to lecture his cargo.

"We only have two life-suits onboard my ship. I count four of you. How do you expect to survive this climate?"

"The Force," Mandin confidently answered. The other three women were gathering their supplies: daggers and other assorted weapons. None of them carried a lightsaber, as Zayne came to understood that Force-users wielded. Tera clutched the ancient tome firmly underneath her left arm, snuggled against her ample chest that Zayne couldn't help but notice bulged from her sheer, raven dress.

"You're delirious. I don't think that even Luke Skywalker could survive this planet."

The utterance of that vile name summoned a violent tear in Tera's heart. A name she had learned to forget, but remembered only for the sake of her mission. Tera removed her vibroblade from the sheath on her right hip, rushing to meet the blade tip to Zayne's chest in a fit of rage. Her teeth clenched at the very sound of Luke's invocation.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Zayne."

Zayne yanked the blade off of his chest, "You're crazy if you're going out there without a life-suit. You don't even know where you're going."

"There's a temple, about five kilometers from this landing zone," Tera answered.

"Five kilometers? The atmosphere is a sulfur-methane soup with the occasional storm of volcanic ash. As we speak, our shields deplete slowly. We have five hours till hull damage, I'm leaving this karkin' hell-hole before then; with or without you."

Tera cynically cackled at Zayne's remark. She turned around to face her sisters, "Do you hear that girls? He thinks he's going to just leave us here."

The other girls returned her mad laughter. Mandin and Cresta swayed over to flank Zayne's shoulders; their pale arms erupted from ebony dresses to caress his chest and face. Mandin ran her crimson tipped lips over Zayne's right ear as heavy breaths parted from her sensuous orifice. Cresta scratched her purple nails across Zayne's neck from his right side. Hol'en embraced her innocent lekku against Zayne's pelvis and legs as she kneeled below Cresta. Her red-tinted arms ran the length of his left leg, inching closer toward his manliness.

"Call your schutta off of me!" Zayne demanded. Hol'en glanced upward at Zayne's face; her countenance became an obvious reaction toward Zayne's insult. Tera eyed toward Hol'en's disturbed expression.

"You have upset our sweet Hol'en. How could you?"

"Look! You're on this planet, and you have your choice to follow my lead as the only skilled pilot on this rock. You do what you came to do, and then we leave."

"Don't you hear the voices that have put you in comatose? That is the Voice of the Sith. The Almighty One who embodies all the dark side. He is our reason for being here."

Tera's appearance escalated into a fierce tempo.

"That's fine; you kids go dabble in your sorcery. I'll be here when you're done. Five hours. We're burning shields."

As Zayne finished his sentence, a planetary quake rocked The Red Dawn and her passengers. All succumbed to the mighty upheaval, falling toward the durasteel surface of her floors. Zayne reached for his communicator in his vest pocket.

"See-ThreeQue Eight, what the frak was that?"

"Sir, I believe that this planetary surface isn't entirely stable."

"Not entirely stable, huh? Captain Obvious, I think we figured that one out while in orbit."

"Sir, you might want to come up here and take a look outside."

Another violent shift rocked the vessel. Mandin and Cresta tumbled port-side followed by Tera and Hol'en. The ancient tome had become removed from Tera's grasp sliding across the floor toward her feet. Zayne struggled to regain his footing to march his way toward the cockpit. Another convulsion caused him to brace himself upon one of the walls. When he made his way into the cockpit, the viewport was encased by the silhouette of a massive being that blocked all natural light coming into the ship.

"What the kark?"

"I don't know, sir."

Massive spines stretching dozens of meters in length lined the dorsal side of the creature that stood close to ten meters to shoulder at each of its six legs. Zayne estimated the beast was at least one hundred meters from tip to tail. The gargantuan head peered around and with each footing the creature moved to align itself rocked _The Red Dawn_ repeatedly under the mini quakes. Horny spikes adorned the crown of the character as violent, ruby eyes flanking the skull peered into Zayne's soul. The head itself looked as if it weighed the mass of an X-Wing. The creature opened its razor-sharp beak and wailed a call which Zayne could not tell if it was one for mating or fighting.

The shrieking breath rushed violently upon _The Red Dawn_'s hull, klaxons blared to alert the crew to a dangerous situation. Zayne stood motionless, to hopefully alert the creature to feel safe. Each of the creature's mammoth legs ended in six piercing claws on each foot. The beast appeared to be a hunter, but what Zayne couldn't tell if this thing was on the top or bottom of this planet's food chain. His answer came soon.

Another native, this one capable of flight swooped toward the first. The flying beast's wings blotted out what remained of the white dwarf's waning light that leaked through the burning miasma. Outside the ship, the flying beast homed in on the land creature. It too shared equally massive size and weight; a slender raven body nose-dived upon the land creature. Leathery wings swept back to aide in the attack, its gaping jaw erupted in a cataclysmic outburst of blue and purple flames aimed at its prey.

In a flash, the land beast outside of _The Red Dawn_ was encased in a scorching torture of bizarre fire. By this time, Tera had accompanied Zayne inside the cockpit; her eyes a mixture of fear and excitement as she watched the dance play in front of her. The ancient book grasped in her hands. The land beast embraced a defensive stance, its calcium-based armor protecting its vitals from the heat of the attacking flame. As the flying fauna made a return attack, the land creature appeared to bulge.

In a show of pain and suffering, the land beast yelled and screamed as a number of its dorsal spines exited upon a rush of greenish-purple liquid that erupted from the base of the spines, flushing across its back and the viewport of _The Red Dawn_ in a surge of brutal display. Four of the spines pierced the guts and splintered the left wing of the flying beast as gravity and inertia caused it to dive-bomb into the boggy sea a few hundred yards away from the battle site. The creature wailed, splashing the quagmire with its uninjured wing. Zayne noticed each time the remaining wing removed from the bog, more and more of the appendage had begun to corrode before the creature ceased wailing; surrendering to the mordant ocean.

Tera craned her neck to meet Zayne's eyes. For the first time since they met, Zayne detected a sense of fear well up inside her. She clutched the ancient book amongst her chest, which Zayne eyed ever vigilant.

"What is in that book?" Zayne no longer feared her reprisal for asking questions. He knew she truly felt fear. Tera hesitated a moment. She was strong in the Force, unlike her sisters and had noticeable training, yet concealed her abilities enough to disguise them. The overwhelming fear that gripped her soul in the last few moments relinquished the mind trick she had placed on Zayne for the past week. A dark force, more powerful than she had ever envisioned, made its presence known; a force that negated her own capability.

Both creatures had been manifest of pure dark side energies. Predator and prey, a grand theater to demonstrate the powers of the planet; the pure dark side, a force sought for centuries now encountered by a one who was just an Adept in scale. Korriban, Byss, Prakith, Lehon, none of these planets compared to the Force exhibited on Roth. This was Chaos, this was the Dark Side.

"Death is in this book," she stuttered, "the death of the galaxy. We are here to free the One True Sith from his entombment; the galaxy will tremble and fall at his might."

Tera cackled gleefully at the thought. A swirl of dark side energies encompassed her figure in a brilliant display of purple and blue flame. She outstretched her arms in the loving embrace as the ancient tome lifted itself to hover a few feet in front of her. Zayne stepped back, attempting to exit the cockpit chambers, startled by the upheaval in darkness that surrounded his fare. Tera's eyes began to glow a bright vermilion. Sparks of dark side energies danced across her teeth as she grinned madly.

_My vessels will leave your ship, mortal. Or you will die! _A heavy-throated voice growled in Basic as Tera became the medium. She pointed a raven-nailed finger toward Zayne as her feet lifted a few inches above the surface of the cockpit floor. Zayne dropped to his knees once again, his brain pulsing with the dark side energies he felt manifesting from Tera.

"What are you? Why are you doing this to me?" Zayne screamed in agony.

_Know that I will be your salvation_. Tera's master relaxed his grip upon Zayne's body. Zayne began to pant heavily, each heartbeat slowing to normal pace. He raised his sweaty brow upward toward Tera in a humbled approach as her body drifted back to the surface.

"Your master's mad. No one could survive this caustic world."

"You underestimate the powers of the dark side," she proclaimed.

Zayne picked himself from the floor. He brushed his brown hair back into place with his gloved fingers. He moved away from Tera toward the cockpit door to lead her to the passenger quarters. The Sith Sisters, as he came to call them realized the fiasco that occurred in the cockpit and embraced Tera, their leader to calm her down. As Tera approached her coven, she muttered below her breath in an arcane tongue. The dialect of the language profoundly elaborated its consonants in staccato. She canted an old spell; one Zayne surmised came from her book. Three-Que-eight jilted his head slightly as she spoke, almost recognizing her speech patterns.

"Open the door," Mandin ordered confidently.

"You'll die out there. If the monsters don't get you, the atmosphere will."

"Master will protect us. Let us leave as he commanded."

"Then I'll see you in Hell," Zayne muttered.

Tera heard the words under his breath. Zayne pressed his anger into a button to unleash the cargo bay hatch which was the only entrance into _The Red Dawn_. The portal's hydraulics whined and stressed as the hatch angled toward the ground. From inside, the caustic odor reeked of bantha dung mixed with the acidic burns penetrating his lungs for the few moments he left the door open. Zayne covered his nose and mouth from the seething sulfuric stench, his eyes noticeably reacting with tears and red veins across his orbs.

"We're already in hell, lover." Tera remarked as her fellow sisters exited the ship. As Hol'en, the last to leave, hurried her feet upon the planetary surface, Zayne lifted the egress hatch. No sooner than he could breathe again the hatch sealed him away from the girls.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

"You sleemo!" Cresta yelled, and spit on the body of a human male, close to her in age.

The male body's jaw had been cut open the mouth slit from ear to ear perking a gory smile. Crimson lipstick graced across his top and bottom lips, matching that upon Cresta's lips. Blood had begun to form rivers upon the countenance of the male as whines of waning life and breath pulsed from the mouth, body shaking and fingers twitching as the victim clung to his remaining time. She squatted down; spread her legs across the dying man's face. Her violet locks embraced her petite shoulders; cerulean pants covered her nether-regions as tears welled in the dying man's eyes.

"You cheated on me, kark-face. I'll see you in Hell!"

On her words, both hands clutched a vibroblade, violently forcing it betwixt the man's eyes. Her stern beauty, the last vision the man saw as his final breathes muttered for a mercy she never allowed. She raised herself from straddling the dead man, Tera gracing her raven nails across Cresta's shoulders.

"Did you love him?" Tera requested.

"He deserved death for breaking my heart."

"That is the destiny of the Sith, you must remove yourself from those you love to fully embrace the dark powers that await you. That is what my Master teaches. You loved him and you had to sacrifice him for your greater good."

Cresta glided across the durasteel floor of the small apartment she had shared with the deceased. Her months of living with the man only compounded with his late nights at cantinas indulged in drink and women. He would never return home as he had promised, and for that he had to die. Cresta had only loved the one man, the only man she had physically known. Her heart and her body belonged to him only to be torn from her soul.

"He was your only lover, Cresta?"

"Yes, Tera, yes he was." Cresta's face billowed in physical reaction to cry.

"Now, Cresta give yourself to another lover; the One True Sith."

Cresta hesitated in her thoughts. She concentrated to devote her next phrase as best she could. Any signs of fear and those who commanded her to kill her lover would certainly reject her from their cause and possibly turn her over to the Galactic Alliance Guard. Cresta buried her emotions deep within focusing on the sinister methods her new friends have begun to teach her in secret. Tera welcomed her as one of her own, but Cresta had one last test to prove herself to their cause.

"I devote myself to your teachings, Tera."

Cresta kneeled upon one knee, bowing her head in reverence, a lock of violet-dyed hair lowered from her shoulders. Tera outreached her pale, raven-tipped hands to lift Cresta from the durasteel floor. Tera's hands became a welcomed embrace after her trials. Cresta felt no remorse, no fear, and no doubts. What she had accomplished was for her, and her alone. The death of one she loved proved herself to Tera.

"Come, Cresta, we must find our fourth sister and complete our coven."

Harsh footsteps punctuated Cresta's knee high, stiletto-heeled boots. As each agonizing wade through the forest continued, her pains graduated with anxious fury. Trees of decay and rot encompassed the path of the four women as they advanced toward their destination. The rot permeated the senses of the females of decaying flesh and bark. The forest canopy reached hundreds of feet into the sky, swirling clouds of putrid, pale miasma blanketed the higher branches in a soup of sulfuric acid.

The powers of the dark side gave them strength, the ability to breathe the toxic air that would have required the aid of a life-suit. The Force, however, could not stop the physical toll the arduous journey would havoc on their muscles and limbs. Hol'en was visibly lagging the tail end of the entourage, Cresta managed to help her catch up while Mandin and Tera led the way.

"Tera," Cresta shouted, "we need to rest."

Tera stopped and turned around to the disturbance.

"What do you mean, rest?" She shouted in anger. Her eyes briefly glazed over in an off-yellow tint.

"Hol'en. She's tired. We should stop and catch our breath. Make sure we are still in the right direction."

"The dark side guides us, my sister," Mandin comforted, walking back toward her companions, her shapely form out of place in this dangerous world.

Cresta kicked her boots into the red soils. Clumps of dust disturbed upward, only to evaporate as they kissed the atmosphere. Even the soils of solid ground could not survive the harsh climate. Cresta clutched her chest, her lungs seared with a small pain. She held her hand up to her mouth, as a small chunk of blood evacuated her orifice. She wiped the blood from her mouth, her white teeth stained with vermillion.

"This is what happens when we stop, Cresta." Mandin reminded, "So long as we keep walking, the dark side will protect us. Otherwise, we die here."

Cresta leaned against one of the rotting trees of the forest. The burning sensation inside her chest angered her; pain caused the dark side to swell inside her cells. In anger, she ripped apart the bark she held to. The decay crumbled into her hands as quickly as sugar dissolves in water. An odd red, liquid spewed from the wound. She pulled out more, a larger chunk as if she was tearing meat from a fresh kill. More liquid gushed from the tree onto her face, engulfing it in a scarlet splatter.

"Mandin, Tera, what the hell is this?"

Cresta fingered the gaping wound, a feeling of cold, lifeless flesh squished between her fingers as the blood spill slowed to a slight trickle. Hol'en walked over to another tree to verify their claim. The second tree exhibited the same behavior. Tera and Mandin grew concerned. To stop now, would cause the powers that protected them to vanish resulting in their own deaths from the caustic atmosphere. As each piece of bark was removed, a sudden chill ran through the Force.

Moans and cries of suffering souls echoed across the valley. Each one crying in agony as the two women molested the trees. Of the four, Tera was the only one to feel the Force echoes.

"Stop it!" She yelled. "These trees, they're attuned to the Force!"

The abused trees continued to flow a dark, soupy blood as if human flesh had been gored from the torso, the trees themselves screaming within the confines of the Force. A mixture of flesh and darkened blood plopped out of one of the holes that Cresta had made. She jumped back in a reaction similar if she had gutted a live animal. She glanced over her hands in astonishment at what she had discovered. Her hands had been covered in the bloody goo that escaped from the foliage. The fragments of blood hardened inside her violet hair.

"We must go," Tera ordered, clutching her large book beneath her left arm, "before our protection wears off."

Zayne toiled away in the passenger compartment, looking for any clues the girls may have left behind as to their purpose. He scoured under the couches, in the locker and cargo bins, every nook and cranny did not go unnoticed. He had to know why he was risking his life on some mere pilgrimage. See-ThreeQue Eight entered from the cockpit. He had been monitoring the ship's functions since touchdown.

"Sir, we are at fifty percent shields, our passengers had been gone for about one hour."

"That's great. We're left here to die, while the sithspawn frolic in the woods. Have you found anything useful about this place?"

"Sir, I cross-referenced every known record, tracing back to the days of the Old Republic, around the time of the Jedi Civil War. This was the time that the Sith Lord, Darth Revan discovered the Rakatan planet after thousands of years of dormancy of the species."

"Spare me the introductions, what are you getting at?" Zayne requested, drawing a sigh.

"Nothing exists about this planet. Other planets in the deep core, Had Abbadon, Prakith and others exist on all records."

"And who would go through the trouble of making sure nothing is known about a planet that holds some sort of relevance to a band of Sith wannabes with a giant book? Do we have access to the Holonet here?"

"Sir, I'm afraid not. The closest system with a Holonet transmitter is Had Abbadon, and that transmitter is ancient at best, not routed on the main network. We are several light years from the system. For all intents and purposes to the Galactic Republic, we are ghosts. Besides, due to our proximity to the Galactic Black Hole, any transmissions may likely be lost."

"Comforting," Zayne plopped down onto the fitted couch that lined a wall of the passenger compartment.

"We're going to die on a planet no one except these women has ever heard of. Wake me when we die." Zayne implied, and nodded off to sleep.

See-ThreeQue Eight hesitantly retreated toward the cockpit on his master's words. Droids could never understand the state of death, to them they only shut down. See-ThreeQue Eight had experienced death twice on this journey, but each time came back online. Would he experience true death; never coming back online. Droids never pondered such possibilities. They served their function and when time to recycle, they had no choice but to accept the inevitable.

See-ThreeQue Eight seated himself in the co-pilot seat and returned to monitoring the ship's functions. The shield gauges continued to flicker strength percentiles. As a scientific being, he could not doubt their readings, but, he wondered if the anomalies of the planet could cause the meters to be miscalculating. Without warning, lights flickered and dimmed; stuttering to darkness within the cockpit. See-ThreeQue Eight glanced around; displays flickered in static, briefly returning to normal then moving to white noise again. This repeated for a few moments when a heavy groan echoed from behind him, then an eerie silence amidst the still and darkened craft.

See-ThreeQue Eight heard his servos running, and the electrons flowing through his processing core. Minute thoughts of processing vibrated throughout his circuitry, each one of them administered by a simple flow of electrons across his wiring. Binary thought processes digitized as ones and zeros comprehended two states; on or off. Humans could only be on or off in his mind. Emotions existed as a gray area of which his processes were limited in programming. He existed more as a service droid than a true protocol droid. The restraining bolt on his chest managed that to which only Zordo knew the encryption key to turn it off. All life forms, organic or inorganic, exist to reach the ultimate state of off.

As a droid, he could not understand what was occurring. Was this the toxic mixture distorting the ship's readings or his own computations? Could the ship be fading out of life with the caustic interference? He twisted in his seat to glance behind him and noticed a flicker of a humanoid form seemed to dissolve into the door leading to the passenger chambers. See-ThreeQue Eight arose, following the apparition. The door slid open, curious he continued toward the chamber where Zayne rested.

There, he saw a movement in the shadows. His robotic eyes could not discern the reality of the occurrence. A whimpering cry echoed from the source of the shadow, like a small child who broke his favorite toy. As See-ThreeQue Eight walked over to the source of the noise, he noticed another flicker of a humanoid form appear and disappear from in front of the sleeping Zayne. In a static flurry of white and blue, the being hovered; half torso at first and with each sputter more came into being. Head, arms, torso, legs staggered into existence. The being; dressed in an ancient war regalia harkening back to the days of the Hyperspace Wars, flourished and hung about the ship as the stench of rotting flesh followed it.

Fading between the physical and spiritual planes, See-ThreeQue Eight grew curious of the ghost. His android brain could not decipher what was occurring. The being flickered as if it were being switched between his two states on or off. See-ThreeQue Eight staggered toward the last known presence of the apparition, only for it to disappear again. His metal footsteps clamoring on the durasteel floor awoke Zayne, who questioned what See-ThreeQue Eight was doing.

As Zayne awoke, the ancient being flickered into existence again, this time hovering across the compartment chambers from Zayne's resting place. Zayne briefly caught a glimpse of the ghost and noticed the ancient armor. Two tentacle-like appendages draped down from the being's chin which Zayne recognized to be of the ancient Sith species he'd read in his history books. The specter opened its mouth, only for its existence to become a face and unleashed a flurry of parasitic insects toward Zayne. Zayne cowered into the fetal position, feeling every stinging, poisonous prick of proboscis upon his flesh. His entire body succumbed to the attack as if there was no separation of him and the insect onslaught.

See-ThreeQue Eight gazed upon his master, who appeared to cower and fear in a prone position screaming to get the insects off of him, where See-ThreeQue Eight saw none.

"Master, what insects?" See-ThreeQue Eight queried.

"They're biting me, infecting me! Get them off!"

"Sir, there's nothing on you. I do not know what you are talking about."

Zayne snapped out of his hallucination, regained composure and glanced at his exposed hands and felt his neck. He swapped at his skin, inspected both sides of his hands and arms. Not a single prick or drop of blood left his body.

"I was just attacked. Some sort of monster, or ghost appeared over there," he pointed toward the opposite end of the room close to the egress hatch.

"Sir, I saw nothing. I heard a faint noise coming from the passenger chambers and thought it was you."

See-ThreeQue Eight could not comprehend the existence of the ethereal, and calculated the ghost was a distortion of his ocular sensors due to the sulfuric atmosphere.

"No, there was something there…" Zayne stopped, and realized he was talking to a droid, a being without a soul who could not comprehend what he just witnessed. See-ThreeQue Eight was a being that existed with a binary thought process. Should the droid comprehend the number two as an alternate state of being, perhaps one day droids could wield the Force. He laughed a bit inside.

He had broken out into a cold sweat as he relaxed from his horror. Could Tera have sent this apparition? No, this being attacked him. He determined that Tera's powers could not have manifested this fright. This was Roth playing mind games with him. The pure dark side energies on this planet would terrorize the non-Force sensitives with its dark promises and deceit. Zayne experienced the raw, unadulterated power of the dark side.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Racing lights and the pounding thuds of her heartbeat echoed within the confines of Mandin's skull. She saw nothing with her physical eyes except a swirling miasma of lights and fluorescents. An empty vial lay in her hand, freshly consumed contents dripped across her lips in painted colors of blues and pinks. Her mind was closed to all outside stimuli, save that which she imagined. Sensations of crawling, clinging and slinking nerves convulsed across her skin encompassing her body from her head to her feet. Her senses enhanced by her intake of pure ixetal cilona fluid removed the pain she suffered in her mind.

She led a life of self-abuse and lust. The effects of the deathstick barely allowed her to notice the man who crept away from her bed of rest to rise up and place his clothes upon his body. He fitted a red jumpsuit upon his muscular form, the logo of the Galactic Alliance Guard positioned on his left breast. He vacated the room, ignoring the woman whom he had recently romanced. Hours later, she arose from her bed still naked from her encounter with the stranger. She leaned up and positioned her blanket to cover her body; hair disheveled from her night of self-loathing lust.

Her head fell into her hands, the blanket falling from her clutches exposing her pale, freckled skin and shapely chest. Her body ached, muscles in a near state of rigor mortis; the downside of every trip. Mandin calculated that by now, her lifespan has decreased by almost a decade with her constant drug use. Her mother would be home any moment and should she be caught under the influence again, she would be beaten and tossed onto the street to be peddled by the local rogues and slave traders in the lower levels of Coruscant; or worse discovered by the Galactic Alliance Guard and deported off world to die in a gulag.

As a child, she and her mother survived the Vong invasion. Due to the massive upheaval of the planet's society and ecosystem, her mother turned to odd jobs after the Republic reclamation of the planet. The economy was tough, and her mother could never reliably pay the bills. They moved upon apartments; each eviction escaping the slum lords that dominated the struggling financial system. The enhanced military presence formed as a basis of security frightened the lower slums. Jacen Solo's military police patrolled the slums looking for perceived terrorist threats. Mandin's nights with a few of the "Stormies" guaranteed a few squadrons wouldn't detain her, but her loose reputation wasn't guaranteed.

Mandin couldn't sober in time and her body was too stiff to hide her evidence. The slim sunlight glimmered into her windows of her bedroom, darkened and shadowed by the towering spires from the upper levels. Her mother had been harsh, abusive both physically and emotionally since the death of Mandin's father who died valiantly for the Republic on a turbolaser platform that suffered orbital bombardment from the Vong invasion of Coruscant. In the ensuing occupation of Coruscant, Mandin still a child had fled from level to level with her mother to escape the wraith of the extragalactic invaders. As an early teen, Mandin turned to deathsticks to ease the pain. When her mature body was ready, she used it to gain easier access to her drugs.

Mandin's ears perked up as the hissing sound of the main entry door signaled entry into the small enclave her mother and she shared. The sound stunned her as a Tusken camp being raided by a krayt dragon fresh from hibernation. Her body stiffened tighter, she struggled to force movement, but stumbled onto the floor face down. Her white sheets stripped aside revealing her fully naked body; fiery orange hair still tousled covered her shameful face. She heard her mother call to her. She couldn't let her mother see her naked, recently romanced and high. The stench of sweaty pheromones mixed with the air of her liquid imbibement stinged her sense of smell. Her mother would surely notice.

The access door to her room split apart, her mother dressed in factory scrubs shocked to find her grown daughter laid on the floor. This was nothing new to the pair. Time and again Mandin would satisfy a stranger under her mother's roof while her mother was either at work or asleep. Either that, or Mandin appeared dazed from the obvious effects of deathsticks. The tell-tale vial with the reddish liquid residue laid by Mandin's feet assured Mandin's mother of the obvious.

With all her strength, Mandin's mother grabbed her only daughter by the armpits and slammed her upon her bed seating upright. She then forced her open palm against Mandin's face, knocking her backward leaving a blushing handprint upon the young adult's face. With the sudden assault, Mandin's adrenaline kicked her muscles into gear only to punch her mother squarely on the jaw, cursing her very name. Her mother fell backward, knocking her head against the paristeel dresser by Mandin's bed frame. Mandin gathered her clothes, never to see her mother again.

Weeks must have passed. Life in the lower slums of Coruscant became an adventure filled with thugs, murderers, peddlers and rapists. Mandin struggled to maintain her sanity on one particular bitter night. Air taxis skimmed the skies above her level. Lines of transports and other crafts formed convoy lines across the skyline that appeared like reptiles hunting for prey. She gazed through her matted, darkened orange hair toward the night time sky that permeated between the upper level spires. Rotting stench of trash and mold tickled into her nose. She clung solemnly to the last vial of deathsticks she had afforded herself on this night; the reward for serving a heavy-set merchant visiting the lower levels to peddle black market goods. Mandin could still recall the harsh sweat smell of his bloated, overweight stomach.

She had consoled herself these past weeks, her mother undoubtedly worried about her well-being, but she stopped caring. Mandin detached herself from her parent in a self-loathing sense of rebellion. An icy paristeel wall in this darkened alley would provide home for the night, the rags draped upon her slender body provided her only warmth from the elements. A dark hatred for herself boiled within, as she painfully sought answers. She fought her own emotions from lashing out in a bid to end her pitiful existence.

A savior arrived. Mandin felt a slight nudge from a boot kick her thigh. Her clear blue eyes strained through her dirty hair to follow the sleekly shined boot, following the zipper riding along the inseam. A curvaceous female stood before her, towering like a reverent statue from her perspective of self-hatred and fear. Hope, she thought. Her past few weeks have known only dirty, sleazy men and the occasional alien. The sight to behold of a respectable female dressed in an elegant raven dress served as an antithesis to the grungy slums of the lower levels of Coruscant.

"Who are you," Mandin's voice strained.

Tera squatted to meet Mandin's sooty face, a stark contrast to her own face a mix of pale white accentuated with raven mascara and lipstick. Her dress, tightly sealed against her form, creased as she formed her body into a sultry bend.

"Someone who could help you," Tera replied. Tera lifted Mandin to her feet to which Mandin was close to a half foot taller.

"You seek love, you seek self-acceptance. I can show you that. Let me teach you that which you desire."

Mandin reluctantly followed Tera into the consuming alley. As the dark passageway engulfed the pair, a guttural laugh forced itself across the path erupting gusts of wind that disturbed trash and other artifacts resting upon the street. Tera promised Mandin self-appreciation but never obliged her to the cost. Mandin would learn to reclaim her lost life through deceptive, arcane methods of dark side teachings.

The forestry of lost souls bordered a putrid bog. The coven approached a clearing in the forest that lead to a shore of the swampland. Calls of the local fauna echoed throughout the valley, bubbling sulfur and methane burst open various-sized bubbles across the swamps, each one rippling the surface in miniature tidal waves.

Tera gaped across the expansive swamp gazing at a shoreline miles away. An unmistakable sound of ripping flesh and bone crossed the ears of the coven sisters. Crimson splatters of blood trickled upon Tera's arm from the wounded tree as she violently extracted a bloody piece of bark. She crouched upon the shoreline and dipped the crimson tip of the dull colored bark into the acidic bog. The bough chemically reacted to the toxic mixture in the bog; burning smoke of cauterized flesh crept into Tera's tiny nose which winced in reaction. Submerging the limb further increased the volume of molten flesh upon the caustic waters as Tera released the appendage to its sinking fate.

"We can't cross here, we need to find a way across this swamp," Tera proclaimed.

Crackles of purple and teal lightning streaked across the toxic skies. Booming sounds of thunder rolled upon the valley with each burst of electrons as the smell of ozone simmered across the methane skies. Deathly fingers of blue and purple arced upon the swamps waltzing upon the surface of the caustic surface. A symphony of lightning and thunder burst through the swamp sea, exchanging with the theatrics occurring simultaneously above. Tera felt the dark side flowing across the boggy plains as the ground rumbled below her coven. Gusts of wind pushed across her hair as she smiled with ecstasy at the spectacle. Muddy ground billowed and vomited from the depths of the ocean. Sounds of regurgitation followed as the muddy land bridge grew in size to begin an expanse across the toxic soup.

A display of lightning and thunder echoed upon the planetary surface in front of the coven. Each pang of booming thunder rocked the ground with miniature quakes that caused the four women to stumble upon the crust-laden ground. The land bridge continued to grow in size, stretching across the poisonous sea in a miracle of creation. Out of the will of fate, the dark side provided a violent birth for the women to cross.

"A miracle," Tera gasped, struggling to lift from the ground.

"I can feel the powers of the dark side," Hol'en proclaimed as she arose from her stomach. The epiphany still fresh in her mind, Hol'en continued, "The dark side is the truth."

"My sisters, we are close." Tera joyously announced. A pearly white grin shone across her face between her raven glossed lips.

"The dark side grows stronger, I can feel his presence my sisters," Mandin convulsed as she spoke, still picking herself up from the ground. An orgasmic rush pulsed across her flesh, tickling her every nerve.

"May death come to the light side," Cresta continued the propaganda.

The coven began to journey across the newly formed path as the lightning and thunder whispered into quiet. The ground beneath their feet had been a mixture of soft mud and clay, each of their boots embedding slightly as they stepped. The expanse stretched for miles amidst the acerbic sea, the permeation of rotting flesh and methane stung the noses of the women. Spanning her gaze across the horizon, Tera spied the opposite shoreline, dark valleys and mountains scarred the surface. Rising hills and scraggy cliffs tickled the skies, she sensed in the dark side that their destination laid beyond her sights.

The coven could not stop. Any pause in action and the dark side bubble that engulfed them would fail, exposing them to the toxic elements of Roth. Death would follow nearly instantaneously as flesh and hair melted away in sparkling pain. Even skeletons would not be spared. Life could not exist here lest it be willed. Massive flying creatures, similar to the ones that Tera saw onboard _The Red Dawn_ dotted the methane atmosphere. Each of the beasts echoed a call into the Force that Tera sensed. The creatures themselves were ethereal, existing only as a permutation of the Force. Strong in the dark side, she had heard stories of Sith alchemy creating guardians for the tombs on Korriban. These creatures were different, not a product of some Sith Lord's experiments, but manifested purely from the dark side energies evolving on this planet. In death, the dark side provided scant life to the ancient planet.

Tera sensed that as the group got closer to the mountainous expanse, the dark side would provide their greatest tests. The forest of dead souls shocked them; the miracle of the caustic bogs only enticed them. The mountainous terrain ahead would scare them away, or kill them. This was Chaos, the dark side death that waited for those who had fallen to the darkness and never redeemed.

Tera's Force training was short or so she led on. What she knew, what she felt was powerful. With each step, she felt the Force tremors of those who haunted this world. Their very existence provided the sustaining life. A piercing wail burst upon the seas from above. One of the massive flying creatures nose-dived toward the four women, only to glide feet above them. The rush of forced air tossed them to the ground as the mammoth creature darted behind them toward the dead forest. What prey it sought, Tera wondered as she pushed hair from her face and rose. Then she felt it as the creature rushed into the forestry.

Like being felled from lumber droids, decaying trees tumbled upon the forest floor as the creature flew into the woods. The creature was attracted to the dark side forest, attacking the trees as if being threatened by them. This, Tera realized, was Chaos. Each tree screamed into the Force as they were consumed by the beasts piercing jaws; the lost soul of each consumed in a ghastly fate. Sprays of blood and fleshy bark gushed from the razor sharp beak of the predator raining an ethereal life force upon the forest floor below. The beast was neither carnivorous nor herbivorous; it existed only to consume the souls of the dark side lost that manifested the forest.

Tera sensed the dead souls suffering and wailing into the Force as they were consumed. Like true biological life, the creature would later digest and excrete them to grow again only to be consumed later. Other creatures followed the first, diving into the forest to consume the souls of the damned. Tera felt the tremors, her training expanding with each soul exorcised. These were the souls of dark side followers who knew better; those who followed their greed and spared no guilt for their deeds.

These souls never had formal Force training, but echoed greed and power in their mortal lives. Each being is connected to the living Force, Tera knew from her training, and these beings suffered their eternity. Fear became her ally as her coven witnessed this horrendous feast. Through the Force, she sensed Zayne aboard _The Red Dawn_. She sensed a disturbance in his mind. A dark soul wandered into his life, this caused him fear. She fed from his fear throughout the journey; it enticed her and pleasured her. She drew energy from his fear. She could have killed him once they landed, but she sensed something different about him. A reassuring calm glazed upon Zayne's mind, as if there was nothing more to fear.

This planet, this forgone disease of a system embraced a new life. Tera sensed immortality, the afterlife of the dark side users before her whose souls haunted this world. Only these souls were bound to this place by the very presence she sought on her quest. Did she sense Zayne's soul? Was Zayne dead? In her malice, she found Zayne to be an opposite of tensions which she had never encountered. Did she find herself caring for Zayne?

No! Those thoughts must be erased, for attachment is forbidden. The Dark Side empowered her. The only attachment she lusted for was the embrace of the powerful being she came to this abomination for. The dark side encompasses all, she meditated upon; death to the light, death to her enemies, death to the Jedi and as a surprise to her, death to Zayne.

"Impossible!" Zayne blurted. He frantically read and adjusted his meters and instruments. He personally ran self diagnostics which See-ThreeQue Eight followed up with on his own. Every check, every scan resulted in no faulty readings or displays.

"Check the chrono, again See-ThreeQue Eight!"

"Master, I've checked the instruments each time following you. I calculate at least five occurrences of the same tests. Each test comes up with a passing diagnosis."

"According to the chrono, we have been here for two days of Standard Galactic Time. Our original display showed we had five hours of shield power left. Our shields are holding steady at fifty percent." Zayne's face grew curious.

"Sir, if I may interrupt. I believe that our proximity to the Galactic Center may be interfering with our synchronization with Coruscant Time. _N'gha aposmos mier gru'd._ Our chronometer may not be accurate the longer we remain here."

Zayne's ears picked up the subliminal message escaping upon his droid's vocoders. The droid had learned to simulate the guttural tones that echoed each time he had heard the Sith that Tera had spoken of. The message appeared almost without hesitation as if it had been a part of the sentence structure he had just heard in Basic.

"What are you saying?" Zayne asked, almost as a double statement.

See-ThreeQue Eight hesitated a moment, "Sir, Galactic Standard Time may be occurring faster than our time relative to the Galactic Core. Our initial readings were based on Galactic Standard Time. _Jxa'den nach k'ratr. _Since landing on this planet, my internal chronometer has kept a constant tempo with Coruscant Time."

Zayne heard the voices again escaping his droid's vocoder passage. Each conjugation of the ancient language tickled upon his DNA as if his own human form understood the arcane verbiage tracing back thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of years. A sinister vibration boiled in his soul, fear crept into his mind.

The droid paused again. What he was about to state next would have psychological implications to the human pilot. Even as a protocol droid, he was only designed to interact with human language and those of other species. The droid had been completely oblivious to the new language that Zayne was hearing.

As well, his programming of human psychology was limited to basic stimuli as his primary functions were to provide service and support to Zordo's courier pilots. Zayne was his latest assignment and they had been only serving alongside one another for the past six Galactic Standard months. He was still learning Zayne and vice versa. He prepared his core to speak his next statement.

"Sir, I believe that Coruscant Time has advanced by a factor of two years."

The droid didn't see it happen. The automaton was only aware of a minor glitch, then a complete power failure before primary shutdown to preserve his programming core. Zayne's mental capacity was stimulated by the ethereal programming that he heard from his droid's speech. Each sentence echoing the sentiment of the ancient tongue coerced Zayne into a deed he did not plan, nor would his sanity permit.

Within moments, his droid was dismantled by his own hands. Zayne's mind was reprogrammed, stripped of his own free will to the very fabric of his DNA. On a molecular level, Zayne felt the tremors of the dark side escaping his droid's vocoders while his droid spoke the mystical words in Basic. _I am an abomination of existence_, he heard the first time. _Destroy this creature_, his ears translated the second phrase. He served his new master without hesitation.

Zayne crouched motionless upon the durasteel floor of his cargo hold. Still sparking wires and sharp metal fragments were strewn about the passenger compartments. A metallic leg here, an arm there, the droid's torso dented and dismembered in front of him.

Zayne's hair disheveled, his face scarred and bruised all of which self-inflicted in his sudden madness. Streaks of blood leaked from his skin in precision cuts upon his arms. His fingernails etched with caked blood broken from his cuticles as his flesh met metal, dissecting the droid with bare-fists. Zayne laughed uncontrollably, maddeningly at the dead droid face that stared at him. The once lively eye sockets darkened and still, the vocoder silenced.

"Master, I am prepared to be your herald. I have taken care of the abomination."

Zayne's eyes burned into a ghastly red as if blood had liquefied upon his irises. His pupils burned with a blackened night embraced by the crimson jelly upon his sockets. He staggered to his feet, mind numbing from necrosis and decay as the dark side permeated his weak will. The once faithful servant of the Galactic Republic moaned as his feet lumbered upon the floor, his boots thumping with each sudden movement. A drool of salivated blood dripped from his grinning teeth, draining upon the floor. Each drip paced every second of dead time. Contents of his stomach billowed forth, staining his pilot's uniform without hesitation. Zayne continued, unflinched from the evacuation.

A new life breathed into his diseased corpse; his orifices lit up with an ethereal hue of purple teal, soon followed as the light shimmered into a mist from his eyes, mouth and ears. Every orifice on his body bled with pain, scars of torment streaked upon his face and hands. Zayne no longer contained his own free will, but the will of the dark side incarnate. The very soul that brought death upon the planet, the very being whose energies acted as a magnet to dark side Force users was now in control of Zayne. Zayne no longer served the Republic or the Toydarian trader he had employed with. He was now the harbinger of the Galaxy's death.

_Go forth and prepare the galaxy for my arrival._


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

"Concentrate, feel the Force flowing through you," Luke Skywalker coaxed solemnly.

Tera sat cross-legged upon the jungle floor of Yavin Four. Locks of onyx hair strewn down across her child-like face as she concentrated on the act her instructor had given her. She sat motionless, her brown padawan tunics wrinkled and muffed from her physical training moments before. Beads of sweat rushed down her brow, moistening her beautiful hair and cheeks.

Tera concentrated on the rock placed in front of her; the rock rattled, moved, but did not rise. Luke looked on, his gazing azure pupils concentrating on her emotions, Tera struggled with each test. Tera was barely the age of ten and had trained with the Jedi on Yavin Four since she was found on Mos Espa at the age of six. Her trials were lengthy, and she showed promise but her impatience lured her toward failure. Despite Luke's establishment of the Junior Academy designed specifically for the younger Jedi apprentices, Luke took to her concerned about the future he sensed.

Luke felt her thoughts drifting towards her past; scrounging the streets of Mos Espa. Tera had witnessed her parents murdered at the hands of a bounty hunter due to her father's excessive gambling. Such a fragile mind, learned in the ways of the harsh streets. Tatooine, much less the slave city of Mos Espa was no way to find out the ways of the world.

"Master, I'm trying. "

"Master Yoda once told me that there is no try. You must do. Imagine the rock, lifting from the ground, the Force flowing between you, it and the surface," Luke's calming voice reassured.

"It's too difficult," she began.

Luke patted her shoulder, "The Jedi's strength flows from the Force. This task is only difficult if you choose to believe that. Lifting the rock is no different than imagining the rock above you. Concentrate; imagine the rock floating above you."

Tera's eyes closed again. Luke could feel her strength flowing this time. Her eyes twitched under the intense telekinesis flowing from her mind, the rock vibrated, quaked and finally lifted above the ground. A sense of self-reprieve whipped through Tera's thoughts. The physical training was easy for her, but the mental exercises Luke pushed on his students pushed her to her limits. Most of the young children in his tutelage advanced further, Luke took to her personally. The Force guided him to this conclusion; the purpose remained a mystery to him still.

Tera rose from her seated position as the rock drifted back into place. Luke lifted himself to stand and ruffled the dirt from his raven robes. A brisk wind whipped through his sandy hair and he smiled looking downward toward his apprentice.

"Why am I unable to train with the other apprentices?" Tera wondered.

"The Force guides me to instruct you personally. There is something about you that holds potential. I must help you guide that gift, you must not lose it."

"What gift, Master Luke?" Tera pursed her lips, her dark eyes gleaming with joy to think she is going to receive something special.

"You have a talent, Tera; a talent that if left in the wrong hands could bring you trouble."

"I don't want trouble, Master."

"No child does my apprentice. Let's get back to the Praxeum, and continue our studies before bedtime."

Luke placed a comforting hand on Tera's shoulder as the two walked toward a jungle clearing. The ancient, towering ziggurat of the Jedi Praxeum rose in the distance like a majestic castle full of knowledge and talent. A handful of Jedi trained in the courtyard as Luke and his apprentice approached. Kyle Katarn and Jaden Korr taught their students in the arts of lightsaber combat. Their lightsaber motions and stances flew through the air as graceful birds soaring through the skies mesmerizing their pupils with advanced form. Artoo-Detoo chirped in the distance and wheeled toward his approaching master accompanied by his niece and nephew; Jaina and Jacen.

"Tera, tonight your assignment is the studies of Jedi philosophy of the times of the Old Republic. I have already placed Master Yoda's holocron in your chambers for your aide."

"Thank you Master. I won't disappoint you tomorrow."

"None of my apprentices disappoint, Tera. Jaina, can you escort her?"

"Of course Uncle Luke," Jaina grabbed Tera by the hand and the two girls ran off playfully toward the Praxeum entrance. Tera and Jaina chased one another in a game of tag. Though Jaina was serious about her Jedi training, she had taken an older sister approach to Tera and when the opportunity presented itself, the two would chase or play tag in the courtyard much to the dismay of the other instructors.

"Jacen, walk with me," Luke turned serious toward his nephew, the pair continued away from the courtyard toward another entrance away from the main. Artoo-Detoo chirped and rolled behind them as an observant droid.

"What troubles you, Uncle Luke?"

"Her future is what troubles me," Luke scorned.

"She is impatient, she is not ready for the Jedi trials," Jacen encouraged.

"Your opinion is noted, though I do not share it with you. In time, she will be ready. I sense a great disturbance with her. Recall, she was a troubled youth on Mos Espa. Her parents slaughtered at the hands of a ruthless bounty hunter she had been living on the streets the better part of a year when I discovered her. I can't place it, but I sense something else there. Her past is haunting her with each lesson. I sense bad tidings for her. "

"I sense much impatience in her, Master Luke."

"Obi-Wan once told me the same of my father, which is what led him to the dark side. Let that be a lesson for you today. Refrain from impatience do not let the lure of greatness seduce you to the will of the dark side. Your talents would greater serve the Jedi. Besides, how do you think your mother would treat me if she found out I let you fall?" Luke grinned.

Jacen nodded in agreement, "I will Master Luke."

Luke's demeanor grew back into a serious tone. Jacen kicked up a rock on the ground watching the gravel skip across the planet's surface.

"She has talents," Luke continued, "unharnessed would be detrimental to the safety of the Galaxy. This much I sense. The Force flows through her like a caldera; silent, hesitant but when the time is right she could erupt in a violent temperament. She is only a child, but if her talents are uncontrolled by a Jedi Master, her potentials would cause negative effects for the Order."

The pair stopped in mid-track. Jacen engaged his ears to listen to the fowl and fauna of Yavin Four, a sound he had always found solace in when he could stay here to harness his skills.

"Uncle Luke, you see how Jaina plays with her. She is like the younger sister we never had. If anyone can keep her on the straight and narrow, it's Jaina. Tera looks to her with respect, Jaina won't let her stray."

"I understand your comfort, Jacen. I do hope you are correct in your assumption."

The pair departed their own separate ways.

Luke sat upon his plush pedestal, cross-legged surrounded by the Force flowing around him. He found solace in his private chambers amidst the books and other relics of Jedi teachings past organized neatly upon shelves and displays. Contained within his chambers, closely guarded; only the well established Jedi could read these scribes or access this repository of holocrons as many were dangerous to the young, and even he would not permit his niece and nephew to this chamber of secrets.

He felt the Force of each author and each holocron contained within; ancient artifacts dating millennia before the time of the Old Republic. Luke collected many of these items while searching Palpatine's private library on Wayland. His time under the tutelage of the Clone Emperor awakened him to a broader spectrum of the Force; venom he heard from Palpatine's past as he had taught Luke's father. These relics were a myriad of light and dark side teachings which Palpatine had confiscated over the years. Due to the tainted view of the Force Palpatine possessed, Luke could not allow them into the hands of untrained Jedi, not even those he instilled trust.

Many of the relics, even those of Jedi teachers, taught the truth behind the dangers of the dark side. The horrors these masters taught were for the better intentions of the pupil, but to the untrained ears would easily entice them toward the dark side. He heard the callings of Jedi past; the energies flowing from these relics permitted long-dead Jedi to talk to him even if they had not contained their likenesses inside the publicly permitted holocrons.

One particular find haunted Luke each time he entered his meditation chambers. A particular compendium, massive in weight and data contained, glowed and ebbed with dark side energies. Ancient inscriptions adorned the faces of the tome. Luke could not decipher this tongue, nor had he encountered any previous work that contained the language. The energies permeating from this book denied him entry, not on its own accord but Luke sensed that if this book had been read, even by him, all of his teachings and lessons would have been in vain as the darkness would surely envelope him.

Palpatine took reverence to this piece as evidenced by the transparisteel casing and electrum plated pedestal he stored it as the centerpiece of his collection. So much so that it remained as such; even in its original casing when Luke moved it to Yavin Four. He dare not disturb it, lest he succumb to the arcane teachings within. Luke attempted precautions, but each time he placed an ysalamiri cage above the book, the creature died.

The book remained instead, locked away in a windowed section of his chambers which required a code key to enter. He could look upon this work but denied access to anyone. That is how dangerous Luke assessed the item. Even contained, the book teased at his mind in private meditation. He felt the presence of other Jedi warning him each time the book spoke. It wasn't often, but only when he opened his spirit to his most demanding pupil.

In this book, he saw death; death not just to oneself but to the entire galaxy. Should the powers contained in the book unleash, there was no turning back. He knew not of how ancient this volume was only that Palpatine prized it so dearly so much so that only a Force user could open the encasing. During Luke's tutelage with the Clone Emperor, he discovered that Palpatine employed Imperial Sentinels to guard the artifact in his private library on Wayland. Luke doubted that Palpatine would even dare let his father access this book so that he could secure his power over the servant. How or where he acquired this book Luke dared not seek that answer for even probing such thoughts could lure him to the dark side.

Luke could have easily jettisoned this book into a star or another such violent body, but should the dark side spirit that manifested inside the tome destroy the star, or worse collapse it into a black hole, he may not have time to escape the intense destruction. He could have left it drifting in open space, but the odds and chances of it being recovered were too immense to risk. He dared not to risk opening the sealed confines, for even the sacred lock that Palpatine installed could only be opened by one of dark will. The encasing itself was immune to blaster fire and lightsaber incisions. Palpatine covered every angle. It was safest for Luke to keep it under his supervision where no Jedi could dare access its sinful knowledge.

When Luke completed his overnight meditations, he heard a rustling outside the chamber doors. He awoke from his deep training, and strode over toward the double sliding doors. The doors whined open to reveal his young pupil, Tera curled up asleep by the entrance. Her raven locks sprinkled lightly over her blush face as she clutched upon her down pillow. Her sleeping tunics wrinkled with each stir of her child body. Luke gazed down upon her, squatted down to lift her up across his arms to return her to her room.

Tera's chambers had been set aside for the attention Luke required to give her. Should she interact with most of the other apprentices at such a young age, her potential could be tainted or worse, unleashed uncontrollably. This much Luke sensed in her, dangerous upwelling of the Force that remained untapped. He took a risk in training her, but a risk that he needed to take for fear should a dark side adept find her instead. Yoda's rudimentary holocron that he had cobbled together from his fragmented escape pod and remnants of his lightsaber rested upon a shelf next to her bed. Upon resting her on her cot, she stirred awake to gaze at her Master's cerulean eyes, "Master Luke, I had a bad dream. I needed to find you."

"It was only a dream, dreams can't hurt you," he pushed her bangs aside from her eyes, "Now rest, Tera. You have a long day tomorrow training with Jaina."

Luke stepped aside and walked back toward the entrance. He gazed back toward his young student, watching her and comforting her mind to assure pleasant dreams before exiting the chambers.

Tera gasped and panted as she sat with Luke Skywalker for her knowledge training. The rustling leaves of the jungle canopy above comforted Luke and his apprentices he had trained here in this alcove away from the Praxeum. Jaina had sparred vigorously with practice lightsabers the better part of the morning which Tera had not been accustomed too. Luke looked upon her with a sudden appreciation. He sensed Tera's training growing stronger and with each passing day her impatience seemed to thin.

"Tera, what did you learn from Master Yoda last night?"

"Patience, Master Luke. A Jedi must learn patience."

"Master Yoda gave you that lesson in his holocron to teach you that your future requires patience. If you are to fully develop your abilities, patience must be learned."

"Yes, Master Luke."

Rustling of leaves whistled in the wind. Fauna called out upon the landscape, wind whipped across Tera's hair brushing it aside from her face. Tera concentrated on the words that Yoda taught her the night before. Other than overcoming the wise master's unusual speech patterns, Tera grew ever more impatient with her training. She had witnessed Master's Katarn and Korr sparring like lightning against one another, their sabers blindingly flashing across the ground in graceful dances designed to defend and attack. She wanted to be there. She yearned for those abilities; to wield the lightsaber with such grace as her friends Jacen and Jaina.

She was stuck using practice sabers; tuned to a low frequency to prevent harm from occurring to those who wielded them. Luke had learned of these sabers through his Master's holocron and notes he found amongst Ben's hut. Luke sensed her impatience with each lesson. She wanted more; she wanted to wield the Force as she had heard stories in her studies. She'd overheard feats from the other apprentices and their accomplishments. Each night, amongst her silent meditations she cursed Luke and his teachings. Luke never heard them through the Force. This was her potential; Force Concealment, hiding her abilities to even the most attuned of Force users only to unleash her powers at a surprise notice.

Unharnessed, she was dangerous to herself and others. Despite Luke's advanced training as a Jedi Master, he was unable to detect her full potential. He sensed it, but had not yet realized the magnitude of her adeptness. Tera realized her prospective talents, and like a Felucian slug, could burst forth upon the most inane agitations. She suppressed her will from Luke unwillingly.

The pair continued to study before Luke dismissed her to her chambers. As she entered her room, Yoda's holocron was missing upon her nightstand only to be replaced by notes and scribes from another Jedi; Obi-Wan Kenobi. She flipped through these notes hurriedly; engaging the amount of data contained that only tempted her to learn quicker. She needed more. Luke was holding her back, this much she sensed. She missed her home, she missed her family. Luke was like the father she never knew, Jacen and Jaina siblings. She trusted them, but grew ever more impatient with their ways. Her late studies drifted her mind away gazing upward; she began to reflect about her days back on the sun-baked desert.

Tera had grown in her time alone on Mos Espa. When Luke discovered her, she had already spent a few months on her own at the age of six. Her parents had been violently murdered by an unnamed bounty hunter due to her father's excessive sabacc problem which he refused to pay this bounty hunter after cheating him earlier that week in Anchorhead. Tera's father always played with a stacked deck.

The day she met Luke Skywalker, she had only been scrounging for food when a Jedi approached her. She feared him at first, believing that he was there to arrest her, but he sensed something. He offered her rations from his pocket which she took with fervor. He comforted and reassured her and told her that something was special about her. Luke informed her that he felt a beacon in the Force that alerted him to Mos Espa, and that she was that beacon.

That was four years ago. Each day on Yavin Four brought the youth misery and discomfort. Something stirred within her each night, her Force abilities called out silently as a sonar ping through the netherworld of the Force. They intensified with every dream. Her haunting visions grew in intensity each time Luke meditated in his private chambers. It was like a Force harness; bouncing off of Luke toward Tera. Something within Luke's presence called to her, ricocheting toward her as a ship would slingshot around a planet.

This evening was no different. After she had cleaned up and changed into her sleeping tunics, she lied upon her cot and rose the blankets up toward her chin. She drifted into sleep and began her routinely haunting visions.

The Force called out from her, stirring the echoes of those who would hear it. From the dark netherworlds, ancient Sith awoke from their torment to call to attention one they feared. Rows of dark side users flanked a gap in the middle of her vision. Faces she did not know, but seemed eerily familiar; rotting corpses of flesh and death. Naga Sadow, Darth Sidious, Darth Bane, Ludo Kressh; a fraction of faces she recognized as the Force called out to her. The cerulean glow of their ethereal spirits gazed through empty eye sockets at the impressionable mind; tattered robes flowed through an invisible breeze as a rush of Force energies pushed between them.

Tera found herself standing the center of the deceased souls. Between them, she walked on the same ethereal plane they coexisted on. A glowing orb pulsed in the center of the ancient Sith, she approached it with curiosity as the dead Sith appeared to revere it almost bowing to it. A rotted hand, gray and gooey with decayed pus broke free from a damaged and withered sheath of an obsidian war gauntlet. The fingers flecked with broken, charred skin and fingernails cracked and bloody outstretched the palm to lift an ancient book to her level. A guttural, deep groan reverberated through the Force upon her open soul emanating from below the withered hand, sourced from the ground.

Ancient hieroglyphs of a language she did not understand nor did she ever hear of them were scrawled upon the face of the tome. The Jedi teachings that Luke left her did not cover this vision, nor did it teach her of the Sith she saw. This vision was not of her doing, nor of her internal subconscious. This dream was a calling of a higher ability; the dark side of the Force beckoned her. This was a feeling she had always known.

Dreams of this magnitude continued each night, each time she learned not to motion toward Luke's chambers. The ancient Sith taught her not to rely on Luke, it was only a matter of time before the volume would be in her possession. The ancient scribe who penned the reference told her the book was in Luke's chambers, but in due time in due patience, she would retrieve it for them.

Months passed. The dreams came and went. Each morning she awoke to train with Luke and his other students. Her impatience ever growing as she felt Luke purposely stifled her abilities. Each night the Sith trained her in visions, harnessing her patience. Luke sensed her beacon, but at night it was as if she was shut off from the Force. Luke grew concerned and tried with all his strength; he was never able to sense her in her sleep.

Luke consulted with his Master's holocron, to which too Yoda's spirit grew concerned. Even Yoda was cut off from her.

"Caution, you must take Luke if further training teach her you do."

"Master Yoda, I should have never taken her here to the Praxeum."

"Doubt, your mind should not be filled. In your judgment, skills you saw."

"She conceals the Force around her, almost as if she is shutting it off unconsciously. Is she holding back, Master?"

"Difficult to see," the hologram of Yoda glanced downward, pecking his walking stick across an invisible ground, "Know this skill, Sidious did. Many years clouded from the Republic he was. I leave you with caution, Luke. Know this, help her you still can."

Yoda's holocron spirit disappeared. Luke sat motionless in silence. He breathed a heavy sigh. Yoda told him years ago that all younglings are impatient at first, but through wise mentoring many pass the Jedi trials. Luke adhered to those lessons when he established his Praxeum training many including his sister's own children. Tera's skills differed from his previous apprentices. Her skills were unlike any Luke had seen. Luke took special care with this one; one wrong move and her talents could be unleashed upon an unsuspecting school. Did she hold herself back on purpose, or was she unconcerned for learning the Force. Luke learned to relearn patience when dealing with her.

Each night Tera slept and each night Luke meditated. With each attempt at harnessing the Force, his powers slingshot back to Tera unbeknownst to him he acted as a beacon for the dark spirits to channel into her. When Luke first discovered Palpatine's prize treasure, he felt the dangers contained within. When he took it to Yavin Four to his Praxeum for safe-keeping, the powers mysteriously decreased in strength. Luke discovered this strange attribute upon storing it in his chambers. At the time that Exar Kun awoke from his centuries-long slumber, the tome ebbed in strength only to subside permanently after his defeat.

As Tera slept, her ability to conceal her growing powers also increased. The powers flowing from the book escaped Luke's thoughts as he perceived the relic to remain docile. The little child that once was Tera became an avatar for the Sith Masters. She became their vessel to resurrect their ancient order to rule indefinitely after being defeated at the hands of Luke and his father. They would only need her to revive the order; she would only serve their purposes before being tossed aside. Betrayal was the nature of the Sith.

One evening in particular introduced a massive change to Tera's life and the Galaxy. Tera was thirteen now, a budding teenager whose abilities were maturing along with her. The young child whom Luke raised as his own in the ways of the Jedi had begun to grow into a young woman. Luke had abandoned her the last few weeks, for matters more important in the galaxy drew him to Coruscant. She felt a strong disturbance in the Force as most of her fellow students remained on Yavin Four on this particular night. A strange presence loomed over orbit. Her Sith Masters warned her to confiscate the tome from Luke's library but the ensuing chaos enraptured her and her students in events that would change the galaxy for good.

The Yuuzhan Vong assaulted Yavin Four with a vengeance. As the Peace Brigade of the Vong invasion betrayed their names, Tera witnessed many of her apprentice friends defending and falling amongst the barbarian race. Amidst the carnage, Tera was able to accomplish the mission her Sith Masters asked of her. As the temple burned around her, the acrid air of smoke and carbon flushed through her lungs, clouding her eyes as the Force guided her to her goal.

Through the cloud of haze, she squint her eyes as the vision of an azure-toned ghost beckoned her towards Luke's chambers. Within his meditation room, she approached the safe room on the opposite end where Luke housed the text within. Using the Force the cerulean hand of the disembodied spirit scarred its corporeal fingernails upon the keypad, placing the right combination into the electronic device. The doors hissed wide and Tera's prize lay before her. Encased in a transparisteel cage, the ancient volume rested upon an electrum-plated pedestal that shimmered in the influx of fiery glows. The same hand etched upon the mortal plane motioning and waving with the Force to unseal the binds of Sith magicks that Palpatine had placed upon the transparisteel cage. Tera removed the volume from its amethyst-colored plush pillow and paused as the dark side ebbed through her.

She extended her arms to claim her prize. The leathery, ancient bindings in her bare hands of youth had the texture of an old croon's skin. Tera glanced at the arcane glyphs inscribed on the volume, as they glowed and ebbed with the strength of the Force. Surges of dark side energy coursed through her arms, along her shoulders and across her spine to her neck and brain, the intense pleasure caused her to grin in delight. She brought the book close to her chest, her eyes shimmered in joys that a child of her age would be too young to experience.

A power this immense was only reserved for Masters, and even those of the training that Yoda perceived refrained from embellishing. The Sith Masters that visited her nightly expounded their glee amongst her soul, but this was only the beginning. She still had to evacuate Yavin Four with her life and not attract the attention of the Vong or her fellow Jedi students. The volume weighed heavy on her small frame, but through the Force she fled as quickly as she was allowed.

The Vong were relentless, this much she ascertained. Their vicious onslaught upon the Jedi apprentices became evident when she witnessed many of her friends slaughtered without remorse; slain upon the floors. The blood stench pierced her nostrils, tickling them with the burning cauterization of war and death. She had to leave, but through the Force discovered a flotilla in orbit above the ancient jungle moon making undetected escape impossible. Tera hurried away from the Praxeum amidst the burning jungles and sensed a lost Jedi student. She could use this opportunity to get off-planet.

Through the stinging carbon burns that penetrated her sinuses, she raced through the ancient jungles of Yavin Four. The foliage was thick and at times stung her like predatory insects as she pushed aside the brush with her bare arms exposed by her rolled up sleeves. Amidst the chaos, she sensed an old friend wandering aimlessly, distraught and mentally lost in the jungle.

Jad Sen had come to the academy a year after she had. The pair occasionally played and trained with Jacen and Jaina. The boy was only a year younger than she, and as the pair aged emotions began to occur. Jad had expressed his feelings for her, which she had aggressively turned away. Jad was quick to train with Luke and Mara in the ways of space travel and flight systems. In many ways, Luke saw him as a younger form of himself as he took to the jungles skillfully piloting a T-16 Skyhopper on his own. Tera had flown with him on occasion to the outer reaches of orbit aboard a two-seat Z-95 Headhunter She relished in the pleasure of the flights as they allowed her to relieve herself of her troubling nightmares and difficult path. Perhaps her friend's Headhunter was still flight capable, she wondered.

Jad's face was bloodied and caking as tears dried up around his eyes. Tera ran up to him, her face and tunics as sooty as her friend.

"Jad," she called. The young lad turned around, ignited his lightsaber and stood in a rudimentary Shii-Cho stance to prepare to either defend or die.

"It's me, Jad!"

"Tera," he remarked, "I'm so happy that you survived. What happened?"

"I don't know," she cried, "we're under attack by an outside force. We have to leave."

"What about the other apprentices?"

"I don't know, but all that matters is we're alive. Let's find your Headhunter."

"The hangar," Jad stuttered, "I don't think it survived the attack."

"Nonsense," she screamed under her breath so as to not attract unwanted attention, "Doubt is a trick of the dark side. Focus on the here and now, the Headhunter is fine. We leave now!"

The training of the Sith Masters taught her to deceive, of which she employed heavily upon her friend. She cared not for her friend, but to the goal of the ever-living Sith of which trained her nightly and took to her like a father should. Luke betrayed her, left her to die she thought. Luke knew this invasion force was coming, and rather than train her further, left her alone to suffer in enslavement.

The pair continued to make their way to the hangar that housed the Praxeum ships, many of which were inoperable from severe destruction from the attack. Heavy rocks and permacrete fell upon the two-seat Headhunter. Vong ground forces moved away from the hangar having scouted the building considering any ships rendered unusable. Using the Force, Tera and Jad lifted away the obstructions and hurriedly climbed aboard the starfighter.

Jad set the controls to liftoff as Tera strapped herself in for atmospheric escape. The engines whined with relief, the dented starfighter still flight capable as the junior Jedi ran systems checks to check the integrity of the flight controls. He breathed a sigh of relief as the craft lifted off the ground, the hydraulic landing struts raised into the fuselage as the fighter glided over the hangar deck toward the charred jungle waiting outside. In a sudden rush of escape velocity, the fighter rocketed toward the upper atmospheres of orbit.

Unfortunately, they still could not escape the Vong fleet in orbit easily. Jad twisted and turned the fighter, guided by the Force as the flotilla bombarded the surrounding vacuum with Yaret-Kor projectiles of molten magma. The primitive projectiles exploded as Jad erratically flew the starfighter through the flotilla, evading Vong coralskippers as they criss-crossed behind Jad's ship. Jad avoided their attacks with precision and confidence, his skills manipulated with the Force. Tera could not sense an artificial gravity well preventing their escape and such Jad began to enter hyperspace coordinates. Tera clutched the ancient relic tightly against her chest as the ship rocketed into the slipstream of light speed.

It was done. The ancient Sith relic was now in the hands of a trusted servant. It was no longer in the hands of the enemy, her Sith Masters relished. Luke abandoned her to fend for herself and she felt betrayed by the Jedi; the training that taught her love only to fail her. Her devotion now rested with her Sith Masters. Streams of tears rolled upon her cheeks as she left the life she once loved. Luke, Jacen, Jaina; all of them had betrayed her and for that, she would make them pay. Tera's tears were empty and icy, devoid of any emotion. She rubbed a hand upon Jad's neck, comforting and enticing him as she felt the same solace upon herself. The Sith became her calling and Jad would painfully discover this news.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Nothing mattered anymore, Tera thought to herself. She erected herself from a crouching position straddling her slain friend. Tera and Jad had found refuge on Naboo the past few weeks from the conflicts of the Yuuzhan Vong war. Jad had grown curious of the ancient tome Tera kept to herself, and for that she had to slay him. Tera learned to hoard the secrets with her life, to refrain others from taking advantage of her.

She ran her soft tongue across the bloodied blade of the weapon she had used to stab him in his heart, relishing in the crimson life-force of her prey. For the first time, she tasted the bitter liquid as it dripped across her lips and tongue. Tera embraced the consumption of her enemy's life whose soul she offered to her Sith Masters with an arcane ritual. Crimson blood draped upon her lips and chin, dripping upon her sheer, virgin-white dress she wore for this occasion. Her innocence lost, corruption had taken her upon its dark wing.

Tera and Jad had discovered this dirtied, abandoned and destroyed refuge among the Naboo mountainsides. The landing pad had been shelled to nearly three quarter of its original size, but remained intact to fit the size of the Z-95 they had fled with. The entry way into the cliff-side retreat had been battered and bent, the insides ragged, collapsed and torn. Once majestic columns had been shattered and turned into rubble, the structure remained relatively intact despite many of its windows broken and the inside hallways exposed to the brisk Naboo mountain airs.

Tera sensed a strong dark side presence from this location when the pair entered the Chommel Sector. Tera nurtured the feelings around this sacred location, unaware of the source of the vibrations. The voices of her Sith Masters raped her mind nightly, coaxing her into her first act of deceit. The echoes of the past were louder and more demanding since landing at this abandoned refuge, she knew as much that a strong dark side user once called this wreck home.

Jad's blood stained upon the marble surface of the grand audience chambers, viscous rivers of his life flowed upon the cold marble floors. His death occurred by the hands of the one he admired the most and would hope to someday form a Force bond with. Tera's twisted mind formed her own Force bond with him in the afterlife. Cold, alone and lifeless Jad's soul cried upon his demise, his blood arced with cerulean energies as it touched the surface of the massive hall. Fingers of electrical shocks tickled and danced upon the floors as Tera watched in excitement as her Sith Masters consumed Jad's soul.

She stood motionless above the body, blood still drenching from her mouth and lips upon her tainted blood-stained dress as rivers would flow through a valley. Tera cocked her head, gazed down at her fallen friend and nonchalantly kicked the body with a black soled boot. She repeated this abuse, shouting a high pitched whine each time growing louder and more violent in intensity as she continued kicking the corpse; the shattering of rib bone crunched upon the hall as his body continued to be violated.

With a guttural echo, the voice of the ancient Sith rushed her hair and dress in a gale of Force winds. Her fingers slid open allowing the knife to fall to the ground with a metallic ting upon the grounds of the hallway. She succumbed to the embrace, her once innocent frame fully engulfed as a student of the dark side. The ritual of purification had begun.

Tera pined in her loneliness, but found comfort with her ancient Sith. Her once innocence as a spry child had been tainted by her untamed power which the Sith found advantageous. She had learned to survive alone on Naboo in this abandoned palace, scrounging on the vermin and pests that attempted refuge here. She remained relatively safe the past few months she hid. Tera believed that neither the Naboo or Gungans would dare find her. Her home beckoned a vibe of haunting terror permeated by the dark side. Listening to Republic messages streaming across her transmitter, she also learned that neither would the Yuuzhan Vong. Occasionally she had picked up faint signals from New Republic vessels entering the Chommel Sector on their way towards battlegrounds elsewhere in the galaxy. Tera declined to call for aide, as her Masters had warned.

Her nights were spent under the tutelage of her visions; her days were filled with training and instruction with the lessons she received from the previous dreams. Each night she slept, the massive tome shone with a crimson brilliance as her mind raced with the ancient lessons. The book remained sealed, preventing her from opening it and fully embracing its secrets. This she found curious as she had rescued the relic from the Jedi Praxeum during the Vong invasion, yet its clandestine information remained hidden. Tera learned that in due time she would be allowed its mysteries.

On occasions, during her inquisitive adventures amongst the solace of her new home, stirs and echoes whispered of ancient ghosts. Was this home haunted, she wondered? She found comfort in her teachings; fear would not allow her to flee. The strong presence of the dark side manifested itself in the forms of shapes and spirits that Tera witnessed wisping amongst the shadows and glimmers of the Naboo moons dancing inside the grand entry way. Many of these grotesque forms appeared as floating skulls or headless spirits. Many paid little attention to their mortal guest, only serving their desires with her intense Force skill. These were the Sith Masters whose visions she encountered nightly since her training on Yavin Four. These manifestations were harmless, no longer a danger to the galaxy since their containment in the Chaos of the Dark Side.

One morning, Tera discovered an abandoned training facility on a lower level of this once grand palace and utilized it to hone her physical and mental traits. She crudely mounted the tattered training bag to the paristeel ceiling with a rudimentary chain she had found in a hangar below. For a few days, she would use the punching bag and the training gymnasium to train her martial skills; toning her body into a fit vessel as to which her Master would embellish his darkest desires via her soul. She also discovered various assortments and sizes of training tunics and under armor. She tried on a few sets before fitting into one that slicked to her budding maturity. Who owned this palace, she had pondered on many occasions of which neither her mind nor her masters ever told her. They left her to discover it on her own.

Months had passed; Tera's body had begun to mature further as a teenager. She felt alone again, emotions and hormones controlling her physical appearance, but at night continued to find comfort in the teachings of her Masters. The Sith would be the only nourishment and socializing she would require. Her formative years, the years of which a Jedi's training is most crucial became engulfed in the occult teachings of ancient Sith whose most dangerous work was yet to come.

On one rigorous day of training and mental meditations, her budding mind had grown more curious as to her surroundings. She scoured around abandoned rooms and crannies for answers. Occasionally she would find a small trinket of some memorabilia to prove the previous residence. In a ruined armory she discovered an aging assortment of the armor of Palpatine's Royal Guard, their crimson armor as pristine as the day it had formed. Any clue would help her in her curiosities.

Tera soon discovered a forsaken office; the ornately decorated wooden desk had grown moldy and rotten reflecting the decay and neglect throughout the rest of the building. Tattered paintings lined the walls of this once prestigious office, Tera deduced that this palace belonged to someone of such importance, and who drew power from the dark side.

Behind the desk she spied a broken and dismantled viewing screen, which had probably provided the inhabitant of the office views of important events and transmissions regarding his or her dealings with the galaxy. Yellowed, shattered fragments of viewplate still clung to the embedded display. She crouched upon the durasteel floor of this dusty room. Tera's tunics crunched as she positioned. The dark side ebbed within her, swirling its arcane motions throughout the room, into her mind and through her soul.

Through the Force, she reached into the past hoping to find her answers. Visions came into view; her Sith Masters avoided this meditation for she had to seek it herself. Using her knowledge of the Living Force, her mind probed into the recent past beyond her own birth and conception and found a point in time prior to the founding of the New Republic.

_Dark robes engulfed a frail, fragile man whose life must be close to an end. His voice crackled like brittle bark as each syllable graced upon his rotting lips. Dark puffs appeared underneath the eyelids that encased golden, angry eyes covered by a raven hood. A hologram flickered into view before this aging man; the kneeling servant encased in life-support armor honored him in what seemed to Tera a master-slave relationship. _

_"What is thy bidding, my master," the kneeling man whose baritone voice boomed across the ancient vision._

_"There is a great disturbance in the Force," the older man crackled. _

_"I have felt it," continued the armored man._

_"__We have a new enemy, the young Rebel who destroyed the Death Star. I have no doubt that this boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker." _

Skywalker! The name traced back over two decades ago, Skywalker; the one who abandoned her to her own devices at the onslaught of the foreign invasion. Luke had talked about his father Anakin and his fall to the dark side as a warning to his students. Was this armored man in her vision the fabled Anakin, she wondered. But who was the older man, the one he was reverent too? Yes, she realized, the ancient and totalitarian Emperor whose defeat spawned the New Republic.

His name was Darth Sidious as the Sith had known him, the public and bureaucrats referred to him as Emperor Palpatine. This palace was Palpatine's personal retreat during his days as Chancellor and later Emperor. Tera felt the strong presence of the dark side shielding her from the prying probes of the Yuuzhan Vong orbiting in the space above. Tera arose from her meditation, fleeting outside Palpatine's personal offices and into the dormitories that she had made her home. Quickly, she reached underneath the cot she had slept on during her stay and grabbed at the ancient tome. Clutching it to her bosom with both hands she hurried toward a chamber which the dark side guided her toward.

Sidious meditation chamber became withered and worn from decay. Onyx, oddly shaped pedestals had been placed around his room like lingering fingers stretching out to embrace once embedded objects. Remnants of these artifacts had long since crumbled and shattered upon the ground. Shards of amethyst crystal lattice scattered upon the floor a few of the pedestals held the bases of fragmentation, while others were devoid of the once grand jewels.

Tera seated herself in the middle of the room, closed her eyes and meditated once more. The visions she encountered had become the most intense of any she had experienced thus far. The swirling fingers of dark side energies tickled at her soul and through the Force, she witnessed the ancient tome cracking open for the first time. A rush of violent gales erupted from the bindings spilling crimson gushes of dark side energies through Tera's pineal glands.

Through the Force, her soul reached into the past. Tera envisioned the ancient hand scribe the words contained in the volume. Ink penned to parchment in an ancient tongue not spoken for eons. The author's hands were ancient and frail, each finger ending in cracked and brittle nails aging in a ghastly yellow and pale hue. Coagulated and dried blood etched upon the cuticles, pus and boils landscaped across both hands that billowed forth from a pair of raven war gauntlets. Foreboding and bulky, the author wore an ancient armor upon his persona that appeared to be made of an ancient alloy, not formidable against modern lightsabers and lasers but more akin to taking blows from metal swords and timber ballistics.

Tera could not make out the face, for features above the chest appeared blurry and distorted as the Force reached out into the past. The author penned arcane secrets of the dark side, secrets to powers untold. These were the origins of the dark side, a reference manual for all Sith. The book gave her a vision of its history and with each passing of the book to a new owner brought grave fortune to any who possessed it. When her mind opened up to allow her to gaze upon the book, it slowly revealed itself.

Tera learned that the book opened itself to those who were willing to accept its arcane knowledge; otherwise the book remained sealed via the Force. She opened her soul to the will of the dark side. As the pages turned, she learned the historical record the book contained. A Rakatan Elder gazed his amphibian mind upon the ancient tome, revealing to him keys of knowledge to an Infinite Army; naturally as the species distorted the knowledge, the book cursed them to demise. Tera advanced further to show the former Jedi, Darth Revan centuries later gazing upon the recordings of this ancient manuscript. His death was torturous at the hands of a dormant Sith Empire.

The ensuing Sith Emperor learned what he could from the novel, only to find his Empire in shambles at the foot of the Jedi, the book lost in time amongst the tombs of Korriban. Tera's vision continued as the next Sith in possession became the Muun Sith Master, Darth Plagueis. Eons had passed from the time of the last user until Plagueis discovered its secrets of immortality. Tera heaved a sigh as the vision became too clouded. Within moments, the vision cleared and the visage of Darth Sidious presided, crouching over his deceased Master with this tome in hand.

The ancient book revealed its secrets as the will of the dark side each unique user and each purpose was different. The tome instructed Tera to form a coven; four sisters who would be revealed to resurrect the One True Sith to consume the galaxy in infinite darkness. All life would cease, save the will of the dark side. This was her command.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tera remained in exile on Naboo for the better part of her adolescent years. She had matured into a ravishing, voluptuous vixen by her twenty-first birthday. She left Palpatine's retreat and ventured into Theed. Tucked away in a chamber vault, her masters alerted her to a collection of rare and precious gemstones that would benefit her for currency in place of credits. Minerals were untraceable, and none would question their purpose. As she entered Theed, none questioned her sudden appearance. She used the Force to manipulate the innocent citizens of Theed to disregard her presence. She had to leave Naboo, her skills and mission would be jeopardized if she spent any further days on this disgustingly tranquil world.

Tera found herself in a picturesque courtyard that surrounded the familial home of the royal family, a single statue of the ever-present patriarch of Naboo rose over her head. _Padme Naberrie Amidala: Patriarch of the Modern Naboo_ read the inscription at the base of the statue. She thought better to spit upon it; Tera's own sinister beauty rivaled the innocence presented by the bronze statue.

Tera made her venture into the bazaar along the outskirts. She gazed upon the many market stands and discovered one to her needs. Eyeing an assortment of dresses and ornate coverings befitting the elite classes of the Naboo, her necessities would be met. Her jumpsuits were old-fashioned, and her eventual covert plan would be hindered if she stayed in Jedi tunics. Tera placed a small collection of rubies and emeralds upon the table of the merchant and acquired an odd assortment of elegant wear; dresses of various colors and designs, a plaxisteel case and the assortments of accessories to match her new clothes.

Lugging her goods through Theed, she made her way into a small alleyway tucked away from prying eyes. She removed a sleek, fitting black dress from her newly acquired assortment. She undressed from her Jedi tunics likewise as pitch, stripping down to nudity. Tera fitted herself into the fresh garment that exposed her slender arms and toned shoulders in a strapless arrangement. She placed her feet within heeled boots that matched her dress. The fitting corsetry seamed into the dress enhanced her natural assets into a slight rise. Tera removed a small mirror from her possessions and applied cosmetics to enhance her beauty.

Tera realized the necessity to hide her belongings to continue the disguise. She focused her way towards an abandoned building further into the alleyway. She ducked away briefly and scanned any life using the Force. Finding none, she tucked her belongings amidst trash and other garbage within the musty building. She continued into the entertainment district, looking for any possibilities of finding an innocent man that would take her to Coruscant. Amidst the elite cantinas and restaurants, she motioned her way through the upper classes of the decorative city.

Tera distracted a young male socialite, her first easy prey. The man dressed within lavish robes that spoke of a distinct wealth. They were dyed in a golden hue, lined with red trim along the sleeves and neckline. Spying him through a glass of expensive wine from across the room, she lured him her way using the Force to trick his mind from the debutantes he socialized with. A couple of the girls glanced towards Tera, eyeing her with a strange disgust.

"You look like you can fly, stranger," she cooed. She slinked her smooth pale hands across his as they greeted one another. Tera licked her lips to entice him before taking a sip of her drink. She used the same hand to brush upon his fit chest which interested her further. Tera stood nearly a third of a meter of her socialite friend as she glanced at him through her emerald eyes with a slight twinkle of delight.

"I fly on occasion. Only for pleasure."

"Would you make it _my_ pleasure?" Tera moved into him, touching her hip against his.

"I probably shouldn't," the man choked.

Tera grabbed the back of his neck and motioned his left ear to meet against her lips. Her soft breaths blew into his ears as she whispered her sinister seductions into his welcoming ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

The stranger smiled, returning an embrace around her shoulders.

"What is your name, woman?" The man requested.

"Call me anything you want."

Tera escorted the man away from his socialite gathering as they exited the upscale tavern. He entertained her with lavish tales of wealth and prospects that he and his father had undertaken upon Naboo. He bragged about his adventures flying for the New Republic as a veteran of the Vong war, but through the Force she saw through his lies. _Did he lie like this to every woman to get them in bed_, she wondered. Tera was noticeably bored with his stories.

As they made their way towards the abandoned building where she kept her goods, the man stopped and smiled.

"Here?" He asked, "Why don't I take you to my place."

Tera smiled. He thought that she wanted him physically. She lured him into her trap.

"No, my friend, you're taking me to Coruscant. Then you can have me."

"Hard to get are we?" The man's hormones drove him.

Tera ignored his statement as she made her way inside to get her belongings. She exited the rundown building with her luggage. The crisp smell of sweet air hovered in stark contrast to the dirty building she just left. Her boots clamored upon the cobblestone as she grabbed his hand to hurry.

"I don't have much time. If you want to be in my bed, you will expedite me to Coruscant."

The man led her to a far side of town where his father held his estate. As Tera and her prey made their way across the landscape, Tera's masters called to her through the Force, imbuing her with a sudden rush of the dark side. A massive hangar on the west side of the property greeted their entry. Her man stepped away to change into a common issue flight suit. Tera refused to change, figuring her dress would keep him interested. He escorted her to a small two-seat shuttle craft that rested on the opposite end of the hangar.

The craft was barely taller than he was as he had to duck as he ventured into the pilot chair. The main entry led into the passenger compartment that contained a single bed and expensive ales lining the racks surrounding the lavishly decorated furniture. Tera sighed in disgust, this man truly was narcissistic. Nonetheless, once they reached Coruscant, his lifestyle would not matter. She seated next to the man but not before licking her tongue across his right ear. Tera fastened her harness as the pilot initiated his liftoff sequence. Within moments, Naboo's lush landscapes shrunk into the bluish-green orb in the depths of space. Her imposed exile was over and her mission would soon begin.

Darkness of space erupted into a flair of streaming stars as the shuttle craft entered hyperspace. During the trip, the man made several advances towards her, but promised his reward once they reached Coruscant. He would get her reward, she felt. The craft emptied into normal space amidst the artificially created orb of Coruscant. The man piloted his way amidst the skylines and taxiways, the planet's scars revealed the decimation the Vong took upon the planet during the lengthy war. The craft made its way to a landing pad that was cleared for entry.

The stranger's death was quick. No sooner than they landed, the man's manifest had cleared planetary customs as a pleasure trip. Whose pleasure, Coruscant need not know. Tera left the man a reminder of his vain lifestyle, attacking him first with a bottle of one of his fine ales, embedding his face with shattered fragments of glass. He shrieked in pain like a girl, and then she stabbed him with one of the vibroblades she took from Palpatine's retreat.

His death provided Tera a fulfilling of Force energized glee. As she took his life with that instantaneous thrust of the vibroblade, a surge of the Force coursed from his body and coalesced through hers. His body strained and his life appeared to spill away leaving an empty shell of a carcass in front of Tera. His essence had literally been consumed by the vile witch that cut him. The dark side consumed him, permitting him to live in eternal torture as punishment for his vanity. To end his misery, she lifted the body from the landing platform and tossed it into the never-ending artificial abyss below.

Tera evacuated the remainder of her possessions from the luxurious transport designed for her victim's personal use. Making her way towards the lower levels inhabited by humans, she lugged her possessions amidst the scum of the capitol. Many of which leered her with sickening passions as they taunted her with advances unique to their own species. She discovered a small hotel built within one of the many towering spires that dotted the Coruscanti landscape. It was here, she set up her operations.

Housed in the grungy hotel, she set her baggage upon a mattress marred with various stains of questionable origins. A single padlight provided dim light to the otherwise dismal room. Smells of unknown origins littered the small chambers, which Tera surmised could be a mixture of mildew and various other liquids she'd rather not discover. The sleazy hotel made for perfect cover as any surviving Jedi would not suspect a Sith student hiding out upon Coruscant.

Tera settled into the minuscule chambers and placed her clothing on the chair situated in the corner opposite the small mattress. The ancient tome remained hidden in her luggage, keeping it hidden away from prying eyes would ensure her success. The room was lined with four durasteel walls with no natural lighting that provided her comfort. Nonetheless, it made her cover easier. She disrobed from the sleek dress that provided her entrapment barely moments ago, leaving her naked skin exposed to whichever toxicants inhabited the air.

She fitted into a set of loose-fitting nightwear that consisted of a sheer one piece that covered her frontal regions and stretched around her back covering her bottom. Rather than expose her delicate skin to the disease ridden mattress, she motioned to flip the bedding to uncover a pristine bottom that looked fresh as manufacture. She wondered if the innkeepers ever bothered to maintain their rooms.

Nighttimes were cold in the ill-maintained room as a small amount of climate-controlled heat vented through the air accentuating the mildew stains stinging her nose. Much of the time Tera's cold, sleepless nights had been interrupted by the various mating moans that reverberated from nearby rooms from species of all origins. This comforted her little as she maintained her focus upon the arcane novel that remained amongst her luggage. She focused on the energies it provided, guiding her and providing her focus.

Tera spent several years on Coruscant, waiting for an opportunity to strike while watching the citizens attempt to rebuild amidst the devastation of the Yuuzhan Vong. She wondered how deep and merciless the beasts from beyond the galaxy ravished and raped the once prestigious galaxy as most evident by the destruction she had seen on the capitol. As she bided her time, she satisfied her carnal needs with various dregs and scum to push her way for information. Tera needn't spend any credits to get her information; her sensual appearance lured unsuspecting men into her bed-chambers only for her to dispose of them after finding out what she needed.

She fed on the Force residues that these souls left behind, a skill she harnessed with the aid of the ancient Sith. In turn, she enslaved herself to the will of the dark side inevitably becoming an extension of its will. Each death satiated her as she consumed her hapless victims, every one of them fueling her exotic ecstasies as she had felt the first time on Naboo with Jad. She was no longer self-sentient; her will erased with that of the dark side.

On one particular night, she found herself amongst one of the many nightclubs on the lower levels of Coruscant; a night like any other sharing cocktails and spirits with men who would desire her in bed. However, on this one night, the One True Sith spoke to her as he always had. Her first of the coven was near. Tera admitted herself to the Coruscanti nightlife, as her Master encouraged. A human spacer attempted to woo the young woman with his drunken ways as she sat upon his lap. Aromatic scents of cheap distilleries and carcinogens clung to a spacer as he likewise clung to Tera's lavish, crimson attire. She turned in his direction and enticed him with a sadistic grin, licking her lips in response to his hormonal advances before shoving off of his lap and through the crowd. Tera pushed her way amongst the club crowd into the back entrance into the darkened alleyway.

The red-haired beauty struck her with awe. The girl was slender, striking and desperate as she serviced a burly human for deathsticks. The Force told Tera that the woman was going to go home to an abusive mother that further perpetuated her vain lifestyle. She set herself back from the alleyway, masking her appearance in the surrounding darkness. She continued to watch the desperation as the man raised his trousers in gratitude, and the redhead consumed her sinful narcotics.

"This woman," she asked of her masters telepathically.

_Follow her. She will seek you out._

Tera obeyed without question as she echoed the staggering footsteps of the drug-addicted girl. Her swagger spoke a different tale to Tera; this woman could be beautiful if she only cleaned up. But what purpose would Tera have with an addict, she asked herself. Her masters must know, but patience will lead her to her answer.

Patience, a concept she historically had trouble understanding. Under the tutelage of Luke Skywalker, the word repeated itself too numerous to count. After a few blocks, the fiery-haired woman had turned into a tenement block towards the small block she shared with her mother. Through the Force, Tera sensed a past of turmoil and struggle. This woman, she thought, couldn't be that difficult to convince.

Tera had learned her name was Mandin through chance encounters with random strangers for information. She had let the men live, but informed them to never speak of her in their bragging. Tera snaked her way into the life of her victim; preying on her emotions and habits convincing Mandin she was no better than the dregs who supplied her vice and the scum she slept with. In short, the women were near equals, yet Tera kept her distance to continue the illusion that Mandin's life was all her own. On occasion, she would cross paths, enticing her as a random dance partner or platonic seductress, but never clueing Mandin to her name.

Mandin's demise brought her to desperation. Her life deteriorated into one that curtailed nameless lust and hardened drugs as Tera mockingly laughed and scorned her amongst their peers. The morning that Mandin left her mother after a violent incursion, Tera huddled outside the tenement as a common beggar; dirtied and shrouded in mystery. The seed had been planted.

For weeks, Tera watched the soulless being search for sustenance with food and drugs. Her life crashed to near death repeatedly. Tera spied her one crisp night, huddled in slim clothes in desperation to keep warm. The dirtied redhead was an antithesis to the luscious life that Tera offered herself. As a snake watches the rats, Tera would strike and pave Mandin's road with good intentions. Tera offered herself to the grimy-faced woman through the Force. Tera's offer of love and self-acceptance was a complete opposite to the life that Tera gave her telekinetically. Mandin did not refuse. The flower of the coven bloomed.

The putrid air of stagnant swamp perfumed among the noses of the four women as they continued across the unnatural land bridge. Death rampaged beneath the shallow surface of the waters as the faces of disembodied souls moaned upon the open airs. Tera felt the chains of death rattling beneath her feet upon the spirits of the damned. She glanced down into the bogs and was awestruck by the visage that stared back; her own death mask, the appearance of her flesh cum bone and skeleton beneath her frazzled hair. Mirrored with melting eye sockets and crusting flesh, she stepped backward in disgust.

"What's wrong," Mandin asked of her, a silky palm gracing Tera's left shoulder.

"Destiny awaits us, my sister." She motioned, attempting to remove the image of her future in her mind. The cries of the damned boiled inside her heart, these were the souls of those who knowingly performed deeds to their own wills of their ill-intentioned hearts. They were forever condemned to swim amongst the bogs of Chaos as fodder for the aquatic creatures that feasted upon them. Deep within, she envisioned her own soul amongst the cursed.

Tera felt she was doing what was right, she didn't betray the Jedi Order they had betrayed her by leaving her to her own devices on Yavin Four when the Vong attacked. This was the story she told her sisters and in their own ways each found a dictum of truth in her statements. Tera formed an early bond to Mandin back on Coruscant teaching her arcane ways of the dark side; influencing her surroundings to fulfill her desires.

On a nightly basis they communed with Tera's dark masters in their early months together and after the teachings, they fulfilled their carnal needs as lovers. With each carnal setting, the One True Sith participated on the metaphysical level as the women satisfied his powers across the planes. Cresta was difficult to convince, Tera knew, but utilizing Mandin's charisma she lured Cresta's lover into their bed chambers to perceive the idea in Cresta's head that her friend had been unfaithful. Convincing enough, Cresta would never know the truth.

Hol'en was the simplest to lure. Her past as a half-breed Twi'lek and Zabrak benefitted the coven to take advantage of her precarious upbringing. She was a natural refuse; disrespected by both races as a mistake. Biologically, neither Zabrak nor Twi'lek DNA could mix but by some unnatural methods brought upon by her mother's drug use or other means, her Twi'lek mother conceived in a union with a Zabrak male. Hol'en's mother worked to pay down a debt she had incurred with her own brother, Bib Fortuna after borrowing massive credits that Fortuna had acquired upon his master's demise on Tatooine. In return, Fortuna had sold her amongst the many smugglers and bounty hunters in his employ and would never know which of them Hol'en's father became.

Hol'en's abuse was instigated by her own uncle; who also despised her as a freak of nature putting her to work in his criminal gangs as a scout, runner or entertainment. Hol'en had led a life of misery at the hands of her own family and Tera sought that to her advantage. She barely needed to try, only to manipulate the Force to claim the most innocent and naive to complete her coven. Enraging Hol'en with an unmatched fury, she cooed the young half-breed into beating her most recent stepfather. Hol'en was the least difficult to manipulate and the last to fulfill the desires of the One True Sith.

The ancient tome sought out its master as a navcomputer would compute hyperspace routes; Tera felt the reverberations in the Force from the sacred relic as their journey beckoned them toward the foothills of scraggy cliffs and steep, rugged mountains at the end of their land bridge swamp. This time she heard louder cries of pain and suffering arising from the valleys ahead. The dark side grew stronger as the mountains lay before them, beckoning them with suffering.

Tera heard the calling of her masters beyond the approaching mountain ranges. She scrubbed off mud that had caked upon her dark attire, her feet beginning to blister and callous from the long walk they had endured the past few hours. She knew not how long they had journeyed, but figured that Zayne and his ship had melted away in the caustic rains.

Her skin sizzled with acrid pain; her hold on her coven had begun to fade as she spied Hol'en began to falter in lockstep. Roth's sulfuric haze began to take hold upon the coven sisters as the Force bond weakened with the Twi'lek's break in concentration. She rushed back, her boots caking into the mud and dust as her voluptuous form sprinted toward the ailing half-breed.

"What are you thinking," she demanded of the tired girl.

"Tera, I can't... I can't move on."

"Tera, we're tired. We don't know where we are heading. It is like following a womprat in a star cluster." Cresta's frail voice complained.

"Blasphemy!" Tera cringed. The acrid rains began to burn into her flesh, her hands chemically reacting with small spots of red blisters.

"We're going to die in this place if we don't get back in pace!" Tera ordered.

She heard a scream come from Mandin a few feet behind her. Tera glanced toward her lover to notice that she was struggling in her cowls to hide from the sulfuric demise. Tera wailed into Cresta with a clenched fist, bruising her right cheek, her left arm clutching her sacred book upon her bosom.

"Get up, schutta!" She insulted the younger pair. Tera pulled her darkest desires from the Force, concentrating on her powers which she revealed in minute moments amongst her peers. Her Force Concealment abilities allowed her to disguise her potentials, appearing like a simple magician wielding powers to mesmerize and awe. Using her powers, she held a Force bond amongst the women, further disguising her potential to keep them in a transient state. She underestimated their wills and their physical endurance when she enlisted them, but no matter, she knew that her Masters would test her periodically and she only needed to fulfill her needs by the will and strength of the dark side as her ally to accomplish her goals; insofar that those who obstructed her needed to die.

Her insults carried a strong resonance with Cresta and Hol'en, as if their obedience clicked into place like a key turning a lock. The pair arose from their seated positions, scrubbing off the dirt and mud that accumulated on their darkened dresses. Platelets began to clot the wounds on Tera's arms and hands as she regained Force hypnosis over her coven.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

_The Red Dawn_ exited hyperspace in the Adega system with an ethereal blaze, the craft gracefully trailing a corporeal stardust trail of brilliant hues of cerulean amethyst. Flashes and sparks of like-colored electricity arced across the modern hull of the courier craft. The twin suns of the Adega system emptied their natural lights upon the hull of Zayne's ship as bright as a lightsaber. This was Zayne's preordained journey ordered by his new master. The severed head of his once faithful friend stood on a pike on the dash of his cockpit view, the lifeless eyes gazed toward Zayne as if crying one last time for repair. Like a slave, he pressed buttons and pulled his yoke to steer the craft toward Ossus.

"The Jedi must know their death is nigh," Zayne muttered. His eyes emblazoned with liquefied blood dripping across his irises. His face appeared pale with death and clammy to the touch as if restored from carbonite imprisonment. His vitals registered in the ship's life support monitors, yet his will was no longer his own. The ancient Sith now controlled him to perform their biddings and will soon herald the death of the galaxy.

_The Red Dawn_ continued to fly uncontrollably toward Ossus its hull brushing close to the atmosphere of the planet, illuminating in the embrace of flaming friction. With a thunderous announcement, the ship rocketed beyond the upper breaches across the recently terraformed plains and forests, slamming into the crust of the once ancient planet still recovering from the combined devastation of two continuous wars.

A tall, salty-haired human woman dressed in the tunics of a Jedi Master stood upon a field, overlooking three students meditating in the fields in the mist and fog. The thunderous rocket flare alerted her to glance skyward as the brilliant streak of spacecraft reentry alerted her to trouble. The tremors of the dark side vibrated within her nerves as she became focused on the oncoming ship. The streak of entry rocketed beyond her vision halfway into the horizon culminating in a display of fiery explosions as the spaceship made contact. Shockwaves of impact rumbled across the surface awakening her students from their meditations.

Puncturing a massive crater into the surface of the planet, _The Red Dawn _became rugged wreckage; the hull smashed and dented displaying arduous repair work that would take weeks, possibly months. Small fires burned near the engine sections as fragments of the hull had become torn and scattered amongst the crater. The majority of the craft remained intact, enough so that damage was minimal and repairable; albeit lengthy. The entrance ramp whined open, motivated from within as Zayne struggled to exit his craft in a trance-like state. He was visibly shaken, but nonetheless, any physical damage to his human frame was minimal if not apparent.

The reactive mist from the indigenous gokobs permeated upon Zayne's senses, but he experienced no reaction to the strong stench of the defensive mechanisms as his trance-like imprisonment lumbered him away from the crash. Rustles in the surrounding woods did little to startle him as his soul and body wandered aimlessly away from the craterous wreck. Brilliant glows of yellow, blue and green danced toward him echoing the once familiar hum of lightsabers and the voices of concerned beings.

"Jedi," his voice growled and mouth snarled, blood drenching across his chin over the previously caked wounds. His vermillion eyes displayed little emotion at his thoughts, darkened puffs around his eyes oozed gooey pus and blood showering on his cheeks. His skin cracked with a neglected dehydration, cold and clammy. Blood and bile stained upon his pilot's jumpsuit, a new froth of foamy salivation trickled down his chin.

In a moment of weakness, the body of Zayne collapsed and convulsed, his heartbeat pulsing to a slow pace in a near comatose state. Four Jedi approached the stale body; a young blonde human male Padawan, two Knights garbed in brown robes one male human and a Zabrakian female and the fourth Jedi, a salty-brunette haired human female.

The padawan kneeled next to the pilot's body, "Is he dead Master Bna'hai?"

The female Jedi Master leaned down, touched her middle and index fingers to check Zayne's pulse. She followed this motion by shaking her head, "No, he's still breathing, but he looks ill. We must take him back to the Academy to nurture him back to health."

Instinctively, the two Knights hoisted Zayne's dead weight upon their shoulders to carry him away from the wreckage. Bna'hai lifted to her feet and ordered the Padawan to search the wreckage for clues to the ship's origins or other survivors. The boy performed as requested and within moments called out to his master. The Jedi Master followed the boy's call into the wreckage of _The Red Dawn_ and instinctively covered her nose with robes at the foul stench she had encountered. In the shimmering moonlight, smears of blood performed by human fingers in an arcane symphony had appeared to her, dried across the paristeel walls and floors of the ship's cargo hull. Putrid rot of human excrement scrawled words and esoteric symbols amongst the blood stains.

The boy had collapsed from faint, overcome by the bacterial stench of the hull. She picked up the young lad and carried him outside of the wreckage. Bna'hai lit a glow stick she had removed from her tunics and continued into the hull, calling upon the Force to aide her to overcome the rank. She glanced around, her physical face distorting in a sense of disgust and curiosity. She continued her way into the cockpit of the craft to spy a grotesque assortment of droid limbs seated upon the co-pilot's seat, cobbled together as if an amateur had assembled them. The head of the droid had been mounted upon a wooden spike on the dashboard of the cockpit, dark and lifeless as if the droid had been dismembered in a violent act of rage.

"What happened here?" She asked to herself, in a worried state, the hold of the dark side continued to emanate from this ship like a spewing volcano. She reached into her tunics for a comm and requested assistance from fellow Jedi that might have knowledge of the words and symbols scrawled onto the hull. She exited the craft, and lifted up the junior Jedi onto her shoulders to return to the Ossus Academy.

Bna'hai's trek to the Academy was long. She reached through the darkened jungles through the Force, the young lad propped upon her shoulders. She was aged, yet spriteful, wizened yet approachable. She was born during the days of the Galactic Empire, and through miracles of the Force her family and she escaped Palpatine's persecutions. Her potentials were discovered by Leia Organa Solo on Corellia while working as a ship mechanic. Luke trained her at the Praxeum, before her potentials propelled her quickly through the ranks. After the Yuuzhan Vong war, Bna'hai's valor proved itself in Luke's eyes and he quickly assigned her to aide in the recovery of the Jedi Temple on Ossus. She survived as one of the few Masters on Ossus during Darth Caedus' raid, and spearheaded its current recovery.

Zayne's body lay comatose and still, wires attached to monitoring nodes dotted his body amidst his medical scrubs he had been changed into. The neck and skull had craned backward, his arms outstretched at forty five degree angles from his torso, palms upward displaying his scaly, clammy skin with fingernails brittle and caked with dirt. His eyelids exposed his vermillion pupils gazing infinitely towards the ceiling, jaws pierced open as if impaled by an invisible spike. Periodic moans erupted from his mouth as if he existed in a state of constant pain, but could not escape. This was the hold of the Ancient One.

Bna'hai remained in constant vigil over Zayne monitoring his vitals and feeling with the Force towards this man's past. Over the past few weeks, she was unable to find her answers from the Force, and relied on the information the ship contained. Sadly, the ship's records had been erased of all information on its cargo and pilot. The protocol droid's memory core had been violently ripped from the back of its head and constant scans by her students concluded that the core did not exist on the ship and must have been removed prior to its departure.

Where it had departed from, the ship's logs did not contain, yet the presence of the dark side held firm in its grasp of the vessel and its sole occupant. Symbols and writings inscribed in human blood and excrement upon the walls of the spacecraft yielded few clues upon initial vision, but matching the symbols and speech she discovered records and inscriptions dating back to the Rakatan Infinite Empire. This revealed nothing new, she had learned of the Rakatans through the scrolls and holocrons that Master Luke had recovered after the fall of Palpatine's Empire.

Guilt emptied into Bna'hai's mind as she ignored the Convocation that Luke had administered a few days ago. She owed so much to the Skywalker clan, she owed her life, but her intentions proved steadfast. She informed her students to leave Ossus and travel to Coruscant to hear what the Grand Master had to say. Her most trusted Knight encouraged her to leave, and to ignore the call of the Jedi would be close to blasphemy; but she had instructed him to inform Master Luke the reasons for her stay. She hoped that the message would reach him, and that he would aide her in her vigil. She meditated on this hope.

On this day of vigil, she opened up to the Force and allowed it to guide her to peer into her patient's mind. Her hazel eyes peered into the bloodied oculars of Zayne, gazing further in hopes that she could read the imprints of life on his brain. The Force echoed back. Horrors unimaginable flushed upon her in visions of purple electric ghosts. Her mouth opened in shock, her body rigid and emotionless as the dark side of the Force pounded her with historical pain. In her state of partial rigor mortis, she was unable to detach herself from the gurney.

Screams of pain and suffering rushed upon her soul, her face shimmering in the brilliant hues of ethereal purples and lavenders escaping from Zayne's gaping mouth as the harbinger of a fate yet to come. Zayne's soul cried to her; shackled and bound as if a prisoner in pain and infinite torture. She reached further into the Force to touch the hapless victim, bypassing the death which attempted to provoke fear into her mind to transform her into a shell of existence. She had seen too much, a guttural growl pulsated into her brain.

_This mortal soul is mine, Jedi!_

The Force violently flung her apart from the gurney, her body hammering upon the floor with a loud thud. Her hair had become disarray and her mind blurred in disbelief at her vision. She lifted herself from the floor as the steady flat line of the medical instruments pounded in her sore brain; Zayne lay motionless, back arched upward toward the ceiling, his body rigid in a crucified position.

The woman knew that Luke's assistance was needed soon. The powers emanating from this stranded traveler were not of his doing, but something greater and far more powerful than she was. She regretted not attending the Convocation that Luke had requested, but had she left this man alone he would be a danger either to himself or to others. Zayne's body returned into a limp position, his monitors returning into a normal rhythmic pattern. She excused herself from the medical chambers and continued into her private room to meditate on the recent events. She prayed that her pupils would be willing to convince Master Luke to visit this man to heal him of his possession.

The familiar hint of oxygenated atmosphere tickled across Tera's lungs as her coven approached the vast rocky cliffs marking the next phase of their journey. She paused for a moment to relish in the vapors of oxygen and nitrogen hinted with crisp winter chills amongst the snow capped mountains. Tera recalled her youth spent on Tatooine and the harsh, arid climates of the desert planet and for once, delighted as a youth frolicking in the snowdrifts before her, if only briefly in time.

"Stop, sisters, smell the air," she ordered.

The three humans and Twi'lek cross-breed consumed the newly oxygenated atmosphere in stark contrast to the harsh, acridity of their previous path. A small touch of flurries brushed across Tera's pale face, melting instantly as they touched her warm cheeks.

"Come, sisters, we cannot stop. Our journey is close to ending."

She hurried her friends along, Cresta and Hol'en bringing up the rear, Mandin walking abreast of Tera.

"What do you think became of Zayne?" Mandin inquired.

"The will of the dark side called him, he is no longer of use to us," she bluntly stated, "Our journey does not end until we reach the tomb of the One True Sith."

The menacing cliffs did little to comfort Hol'en's nerves as the foursome ventured further along the twenty meter wide valley. The mountains tickled the upper portions of atmosphere where the summits were encased in familiar, water vapor clouds. Engulfed in the powers of the dark side, the cavernous canyons instilled fear amongst its newcomer while providing comfort to oxygen breathing species since most would never make it this deep upon Roth, the mountainous terrain made it impossible for safe landings of spacecraft. Hol'en had been uneasy about the journey since leaving Nal Hutta, but knew that life back home would be torturous and humiliating at best.

She wished she had killed her uncle, and not the human scum that molested her in front of her own mother. It was her uncle, Bib Fortuna who administered her life of forced servitude, the unfortunate human was only one of the many customers that her uncle sold her and her mother off to. Rage encompassed her thoughts, an untapped force that Tera fed upon.

These three beings were of no use to Tera, only to the One Sith. The ancient relic that Tera carried beneath her arms instructed her on the process to bring him back into the living realms, four beings were required. They need not be Force-users, but unwilling victims to the grand plan. Tera's lust for revenge motioned her forward; revenge against the Jedi who betrayed her and left her for dead on Yavin Four. A dark lust seared into her black-tinted eyes, swirling them into an unnatural hue of yellow as she focused her anger with each passing step.

An echo of death engulfed the scraggy valleys, moans of despair and suffering pulsated through Tera's icy heart. For the first time, Mandin felt the tremors in the Force, too powerful for her to ignore. Mandin cocked her head to her left as movement inside the cliffs walls startled her, icy pelts began to attack her skin as she covered her chest with her arms in a vain attempt to warm up dressed in the sheer raven clothes she had been adorned with.

Mandin paused again; her companion did not flinch and continued further on the path. A disturbing motion slinked across the cliff walls as Mandin approached the rocky outcropping she gazed at. There it was again, motion within the rocks. She touched her outstretched fingers to the cliff-side and from within another hand reached out for her, outstretching its right hand against her left fingers. A humanoid face pushed outward from the cliff to stare at Mandin unflinchingly. The human male's facial features were a deep crevice, eyes and mouth appeared as basins as the rest of the face became an outline upon the cliff.

"Help me," the being whined, the mouth motioning in a horrific display of pain and death silhouetted by the towering pile. Slowly, the face and hand melted into the cliff, a further curiosity gleaned upon Mandin's face. Snowflakes began to cluster upon her crimson hair and her silky sheer raven dress.

An upheaval of rocks suddenly pushed toward Mandin's body, arms outstretched in a motion to embrace her. Grabbing her within quartz-like hands, she struggled and screamed to break free. Her screams of anguish alerted Tera who came rushing to her aide with vibroblade unsheathed. Cresta and Hol'en feverishly struggled to move the arms off of their friend, the strength of the mountain ghost far surpassed their own.

Mandin inched further toward the mountainside, her feet feebly attempting to provide reverse reaction to the pulling force of the rocky arms that demanded her. Her arms pushed upon the provocateur struggling to release the embrace. With the swift motion of severed rock, Tera cut into the right arm with her vibroblade. The humanoid ghost motioned to retreat its cut arm in a cry of pain as another arm pushed outward from the mountain, punching Tera upon the left side of her skull. The force of the attack knocked her away a few meters. Mandin successfully squirmed her way from the sudden opening on her left side to arrive to Tera's aide as the remaining form of the ghost withdrew upon the cliffside.

Cresta and Hol'en collapsed from the loss of strength needed to help Mandin flee from the creature; they quickly crawled as far from the cliff as they could in anticipation of another attack. Mandin reached her index and middle fingers upon Tera's neck and felt blood continuing to pump amongst her veins. She then cradled Tera's head inside her arms as Tera groaned in pain. Mandin's hand brushed Tera's dark hair aside to reveal a blackened gash seeping with blood just above her left temple. Mandin tore a fragment of her sleeve to dot the wound and soak up what she could.

"Cresta, Hol'en, help," Mandin cried.

The pair struggled to lift from their rest, and rushed over to their friend's aide.

"Is she alive?" Hol'en inquired.

"She's unconscious, but she has a pulse. Quickly, we must get her to rest."

"We can't rest here, not with those monsters in the walls!" Cresta protested.

"We can't just move her, this wound won't heal itself."

A rush of Force energies flowed within Tera awakening her senses to the arguments outside her body. Her mind laughed at the catty bickering that occurred amongst her friends. What fools, she thought as they discussed their fears about this canyon and how the journey had become in vain. Tera sought solace from her dark side masters, her eyes rolling back into her head causing convulsions to appear from behind her eyelids which Mandin screamed in reaction to feeling that Tera might die. Even her most trusted of sisters, her lover, had no inkling about her Force abilities and how she would drown herself with her Master's teachings. Her Force Concealment tricks continued to make notice; shutting down her heartbeat to near stillness, her lungs ceasing to expand within her chest as her Force abilities feigned her dead.

"By the Force!" Mandin screamed, "She's dead!"

Cresta and Hol'en knelt by the side of their coven leader, Cresta showing a noticeably worried look as a tear began to form down her left eye. Hol'en twitched her lekku in an instinctual sign of sadness.

"Now what do we do, Mandin," Cresta required.

"Zayne's gone; we have no way off of this planet. I saw _The Red Dawn_ lift off when we were walking through the forest back there. We're going to die here! This karkin' schutta brought us here to die out of her greed. Schutta! I spit on you!" Hol'en performed as she had cursed; spitting in Tera's face and kicking dirt on the apparent corpse that Tera had led them to believe.

Hol'en's anger served Tera's interests. Within her dark heart, the dark side bubbled with an anticipation of unyielding conviction. Her Ancient Master laughed from the ethereal planes echoing across her soul. He would imbibe her with powers too immense for most adepts of her caliber only to disillusion her into believing her potential. It would be a lesson she could never learn, but in her time embellished in the unending immortality that she deemed her reward.

Hol'en grasped for her throat, clutching it as she felt the minuscule twitches of her trachea contracting into itself. Her face widened, gasping for air in a desperate attempt to flee from her supernatural torture. Cresta and Mandin looked on, surprised by the sudden shock of seeing Hol'en in a state of panic and pain. Tera's body elevated from the ground, lifted by the Force itself, rising to her feet. Flickers of purple lightning flickered from her eyes, across her flesh and extremities. She lifted her right hand, remaining in her trance-like, near comatose state and continued to torture the half-Twi'lek by clutching her fingers tighter, almost closing them into a fist.

A darkened, hoarse almost masculine voice emanated from her vocal chords, "So you think I'm a schutta?"

Tera lifted Hol'en a few inches off the ground, continuing to grip her with the Force. The flowing black dress draped below Hol'en's feet like a floating ghost as she continued to clutch her own neck in a vain attempt to stop the Force hold that Tera wielded.

"Tera let her go!" Mandin demanded.

Tera lightened her grip, upholding Hol'en's elevation. Hol'en could feel the fresh oxygen flowing to her brain and her lekku responded in kind. Through the Force, Tera dropped Hol'en to the ground; the sudden impact caused her to collapse to her side. She leaned upon her arms, coughing and wheezing as the rush of oxygen continued to infiltrate her lungs; her face shone a darkened bitter hatred swelling inside for her assailant.

Tera could feel Hol'en's hatred; she fed off of it as her wounds healed themselves from the energies she recently drained from her victim.

Tera gazed back at Hol'en in a mocking sneer, "Your hatred makes you powerful." She eyed Mandin and Cresta, "Come ladies, let us continue."

Hol'en arose from the ground, kicking the ground at her feet in adolescent anger. Cresta stood abreast to her, hugging her shoulders around her lekku, covering her from the fresh falling flurries that started to blanket across the valley. In many ways, the pair shared a bond of inexperience, comforting one another as Tera's mad quest continued to fulfill. At first, they found comfort with Tera and Mandin; studying with them, honing skills that Tera deceived them with. As Tera and Mandin worked their ways in Nar Shaddaa's remaining cantinas in search of a pilot, Hol'en and Cresta were left alone to meditate on Sith teachings that Tera ordered upon them.

The night Tera found Zayne; he had just arrived on Nar Shaddaa after shuttling another fare. Cresta and Hol'en were permitted to go on this night and from across the bar, spied Tera seductively flirting with Zayne as he took to drink. After a number of rounds, Tera coerced him amongst her bosom, enticing him with what lay beneath her sealed, crimson dress. Zayne took the job without objection under the condition that he asked no questions to their destination or purpose, only that he take the hyperspace route Tera dictated toward him. A standard week later, Zayne had shuttled the pair off of the moon and into the unknown route.

During the hyperspace route, Tera grew distant from her sisters in deep meditation not even allowing her lover, Mandin to interfere. Hol'en perceived a nonhuman desire boiling inside her, something that displaced Tera from her species as if she was constantly disturbed by anger or fear. Zayne kept to himself and his droid which Hol'en, in her adolescent mind, felt she tried to befriend only to be disrupted time and again by Tera and her insistence to focus on the goals at hand, repeating over and over that Zayne and his abomination were nothing more than inferior service pests.

Tera never learned to love, this much Cresta perceived. She found comfort in her arcane teachings which she obsessed over. The only person that Tera seemed to find solace with was Mandin and even then led her on with misinformation or disinformation. Each step Hol'en took etched burning blisters along the soles of her feet. She agonized as the march processed on; the fresh blanket of icy flurries did little to aide in her comfort as she struggled to keep warm despite Cresta's continued body warmth.

The women continued their journey through the valley flanked by massive mountains and cliffs. Tera meditated on the echoes of the souls bound into this valley which her book gave no name. She concluded the souls imprisoned here were fallen Jedi that never redeemed. These were the souls whose actions were from greed or desire that caused these Jedi to fall to the dark side. They never regained truth or enlightenment after their fall, yet never fully embraced the dark side nor its powers for total gain over themselves or others. The punishment became eternal damnation, walled for their sins to wail forever hoping to find a soul to inhabit that may redeem them from their prisons.

Snow flurries continued to fall, blanketing the path ahead with a fresh powder. The cold chills of the mountain winds brushed across the lightly clothed women as they huddled amongst each other attempting to keep warm, minus Tera who strode ahead ignoring the plight of her sisters determined to reach her goals.

"Tera, we must find warmth or we will die in this place." Mandin requested.

Tera angered at the statement, stopping in her tracks. Her face became a grimacing disdain. The blustery winds barreled through the valley, whipping her hair into a natural frenzy lined with snow and ice. Anger swelled inside her as she clenched her fists. Arcs of purple-hued Force Lightning ignited across her fingers; her chest heaved heavily in a venting motion.

_You are no good to me dead, my servant. The dark side awaits you patiently. There is a cave nearby, follow the Force. _

The words beat across her soul, pounding inside her brain like a commanding parent. The force lightning calmed itself to mere static as she calmly turned around to her friends. Mandin noticed a considerable change in her demeanor turning to the lover she first met on Coruscant, no longer the detached slave that she had become in the past few weeks.

"Master alerted us to a cave a few meters nearby, we can shelter there tonight," Tera's words calmed the three followers. They continued their journey, slowed by the whipping winds and falling temperatures accented by the increasing speed and volume of frozen precipitation. The open cave introduced itself as Tera intended, a few hundred meters further. The four girls quickly entered, embracing the welcome shelter to regroup and meditate on their future journey. They knew nothing of the time that had passed since making planet-fall, they knew nothing of the fact that the war that had begun to wage during their departure had already come and gone and the Jedi would soon be exiled by decree.

The Jedi still existed, Tera knew. Luke was her enemy and so long that he existed, her lust for revenge was fueled. A fire ignited from her powers to warm the sisters as Cresta and Hol'en slept. Tera stared into the inviting flame, visions of her past cracked and hissed amongst the flames glimmering upon her raven eyes. Mandin huddled next to her near the life-giving warmth imbued by the flames.

"What pains you, lover?" Mandin requested. Anger fueled Tera's feelings, Mandin touched into her soul with her infant powers.

"Skywalker still lives, I can feel it," Tera's heart erupted in anger.

"Our master will vanquish him, we both know this. You're tired," Mandin caressed Tera's neck with her lips, "Master will revive us, let us embrace him."

Tera's head turned to meet Mandin's, their lips locked in sensual embrace as the pair leaned backward upon the rocky cave surface to revel in lust.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

For months the Jedi of the Ossus Academy diligently studied the wreckage of _The Red Dawn_, yet nothing in the ancient codices of knowledge provided clues as to the origins or nature of the symbols and glyphs that were etched in putrid human blood and excrement. Learned Jedi scholars beamed over ancient writings and questioned the various holocrons that Luke had gathered for use amongst his peers, the most ancient of clues lied with the holocron of Ood Bnar. Though scarce, his holocron provided minimal clues of the early origins of the Sith, only describing the first of the Jedi Schisms and how Karness Muur discovered the ancient Sith species on Korriban.

The answers must lie in the Sith teachings, the Jedi Mistress had concluded, but those had been off limits since the Second Galactic Civil War that recently ceased. Luke forbade the knowledge of the Sith from being acquired by his students for fear of further falls. Luke's arrival was of the utmost necessity, but the Jedi Mistress had learned through the Force that Luke was considered an enemy of the state by the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances since he administered his latest Convocation.

Zayne Dax had been in a near comatose stasis the past few weeks, fed intravenously and muttering murmurs in his trances. Bna'hai had Force bound him so that the ancient being that inhabited his body would be restrained. If the spirit that possessed her patient was of a great potency as she feared, her Force Binding would be moot. She prepared her spirit for the inevitable; that the guise of complacency the body currently displayed was that of a sleeping krayt; ready to erupt in ferocity unseen to defend its soul and its core beliefs.

On this day, Bna'hai left herself alone with the holocron of Ood Bnar. She activated the learning tool as the hologram of the ancient Jedi awoke into being. She placed the cube upon her paristeel desk amidst data pads and papers scribed with notes and drawings. The hologram came to life, this time his ancient face appearing as bark of a tree gleamed a stone-faced, worried appearance as his spirit gazed upon the stressed countenance of his student.

"What worries you today, Jedi?" Bnar's deep voice penetrated through the air.

"Master, I have studied your teachings and I have learned what I could from the resources in Ossus, but I am unable to conclude the origins of the writings and symbols we have found."

"You have consulted me before, but I have taught you all I know about the ancient Sith," Bnar's aged voice rattled. He spoke in a slow, wizened pace as if time itself ceased to continue for him.

"What more can I learn?"

"I am afraid, Mistress Jedi, you are becoming obsessed with a path that teeters you close to the dark side. To learn more, may cause your fall to be," the holocron paused a moment," unredeemable."

"If this Sith is a threat to the galaxy, we must learn how to combat it," the Jedi demanded of the ancient holocron.

"Use your instincts, Jedi. Your aggression in this matter nurtures your fall to this Sith. Do not let that become of you. In due time, Master Luke will be able to aide you. Mistress Bna'hai, heed my warnings."

"Yes Master, that is all I need of today," Bna'hai switched off the ancient holocron. As she gazed upon her notes through her aging eyes, a breeze rushed through her salty hair. The symbols noted in her datapads and papers coalesced into a blurry myriad. Was this the dark side, or a figment of her fatigue? The writings she had scribbled on papers swirled as if written by an unseen hand forming patterns and coded sentences which her training did not permit her to recognize. She watched the dance for minutes on end, rubbing her eyes and realizing that the visions flowed from the Force. Winds whipped inside her study hall, scattering her papers across the desk, while the forms and symbols upon them continued their ballet as if removed from the paper forming in the shape of the Galaxy familiar in mid-air.

Vector lines appeared from the locations of Korriban, Byss, Prakith and other known Sith planets, pointing back toward Coruscant. She watched meticulously, as if the Force was giving her the vision she required. As the spectral map continued to form, the Galactic Center zoomed in focusing on Coruscant. From Coruscant, a new vector line emerged, this time etching across the Galactic Elliptic inward toward the Galactic Deep Core towards an unknown region of unexplored space beyond Prakith and Had Abaddon; deeper into the core near the black hole at Galactic Center.

As the mysterious map continued to draw, Bna'hai felt a sudden shift in the local balance of the Force, as if a vacuum or a wound formed within the air surrounding her. This perturbed her meditations and the map dissolved as salt in water within the thin air above her head. She felt a cold stillness permeate her chambers as a frenzied rush of the Force coalesced in vacuum behind her. Bna'hai felt the very essence of the Force dissipate as plainly as it had never existed upon Ossus.

"Jedi," a guttural voice interrupted her meditations, "shall DIE!"

The deep guttural growl proclaimed from behind her, Bna'hai swept around in a quickening blur, her lightsaber igniting instantaneously with a fleeting motion as if to meet an ancient weapon. The rush of the voice thrust a violent outburst of energies against her as a Force ghost came into vision, repulsing the invisible Force around it stirring her notes and the ancient holocron off of her desk. She faced a horrific vision of which she had never witnessed; an ancient corpse of a human appearance taller than she reaching nearly two meters.

The corpse had been encased in an ethereal glow garbed in an ancient metal armor that covered its entire body minus its head. War gauntlets made of the same metallic alloy as the rest of the armor covered the topside of the hands to allow for mobility as the being gripped its ancient weapon with its right hand. Ornate war gauntlets covered the forearms of the being as decayed gray hands protruded from the decorated armor.

The head emerging from the armor looked as if it had been mummified for eons, the eye sockets were dark from aging rot, gums and lips dried up revealing unkempt teeth. The nasal cavity deteriorated in an open triangular hole upon the skull. Faint strands of mummified hair remained attached to the scalp, the left ear decayed completely as the right showed signs of increased decomposition. Although in spirit form, the vision did not escape the rank stench of bacterial putrefaction.

The vision of this ancient tormentor wielded an ancient blade glowing in similar ethereal hues of violet blues. The blade protruded from the handle, surrounded by three precision cut claws that housed the blade to the hilt. The weight of the ancient blade heaved as if it was wielded with the strength of a thousand men. The Jedi's lightsaber met the strike of the corporeal blade; the force of the impact shocked her into a defensive stance upon one knee.

The gleam of her emerald blade shone upon her eyes, the sword her adversary wielded looked from an ancient alloy that her lightsaber should have easily shorn. The horrific visage of the ancient being stared at Bna'hai with an intense anger unmatched by even the most virile of beasts. She drew her eyes shut to yield herself to the Force; if this was her fate, she would accept it with an open heart. As she called upon the Force, the vision withdrew and disappeared in a wisp of cerulean arcs of force energies reaching upward from the floor.

Bna'hai lifted herself from her defensive position and heaved a sigh of relief that the adversary was just a vision, but the impact of the parry seemed realistic enough to have exhausted her strength. The Force slowly flowed once again into the room, as the low hum of the lightsaber she angled at her side stirred the otherwise silent antechambers. Her face strained from wear and fatigue as she disengaged her lightsaber and plunged to her seat. Her recent studies did not alert her to this form, this ancient warrior whose presence she felt within Zayne.

Was this the spirit that inhabited her patient, she wondered. She meditated on her vision of the Star Map, the vector lines that formed from her vision pointed to a planet or star system she had concluded. The Force guided her to deduce that the location must have been where Zayne's ship had originated from despite all logs being destroyed before she encountered her vision. Who or what was the spirit that attacked her she asked of the Force, of which she learned no answers as if the Force itself could not guide her to a conclusion.

Her Force sensitivity had been thrown into a supernatural vertigo while the dark side energies of the Force Wound continued to dissipate. A being of such immense power most assuredly would be a danger to the Jedi, if not life itself. The Force regained attenuation within Bna'hai's body as she meditated upon the experience she had just been relieved from.

Awakening to an icy fog that cooled the insides of the cave, Tera leaned up from Mandin's embrace. Her temples pounded in intense pain as a rush of Force energies alerted her to a dark vision. A defensive Jedi wielded a green lightsaber in front of her as she appeared to wield a mighty blade of ancient origin. Her sight was cloudy in her focus, the light bending into unnatural wavelengths barely making out the features of the female Jedi before her as if she was looking through specially cut glass. As instantly as the vision appeared, her apparition was gone and she startled from sleep.

"Master," she whispered so as to not awaken her fellow sisters. The fires continued to burn brightly through the night providing decent warmth to the four girls. Mandin lay next to her asleep as Cresta and Hol'en rested opposite the hearth. Tera clutched at the ancient book that guided her on her journey thus far, meditating on her mission and the visions the book poisoned into her mind. She graced her hands across the ancient script, etching her fingernails upon the ancient hieroglyphs that adorned the cover in contemplative thought.

Tera closed her eyes in a meditative trance, focusing the Force upon the book that lay in her hands. She called upon her master's writings, to aide her on her journey. This far, she wanted to know more. The book did not disappoint.

As she meditated deeper, the tome began to open up and leaf through its voluminous pages. Through the Force, she envisioned the ancient author describing various aspects of the lore and culture which she subscribed to. The book continued into the history lessons of before, as the vision of the author scribing to parchment became clear.

The ancient armor surrounding the scribe's pale hands clamored across the oak desk as the quill writ to paper. Dark forces surged through the man as his arcane ideas manifested to be taught to future generations. The armor had been encased by a raven cloak made from the fur of an indigenous livestock as the hood of the robes had been laid back to rest upon his broad, muscular shoulders. Black, shoulder-length hair had been woven into a tail resting upon the being's cloak. His face shone as the radiance of a thousand suns with perfectly square jaw and high cheek bones. Onyx-colored eyes had been set deep into the sockets outlined a rounded nose bridge. Rosy colored lips that had been colored with a dark, unnatural tint broadened into a smile with glimmering white teeth, canines sharpened into fine points as the writings provided a visible satisfaction to the author.

Perfectly beautiful, Tera thought upon her meditations of the ancient scholar. Through the Force, she felt the author of the book was the true master that she had been seeking; the dark manifest that had guided her through her quest. Her master spoke to her in a bass toned voice unlike the deathly growls she had heard recently; this was her master in his lively prime.

"Open your mind to the knowledge you seek. Let it swell deep inside you," her master spoke in a comforting manner, "I am the Truth you seek."

"As you command, master," Tera opened her mind and her soul to the knowledge the scholar required. Her lust was fulfilled as her external body writhed in orgasmic ecstasy upon the cave floor, the book hovering above her poisoning her mind with ancient knowledge forbidden to only the most impure hearts. Her spirit and her master's became one as the pair engaged in a metaphysical carnality. Her physical body tingled from nerve cell to nerve cell, electric impulses fired across her physical form warming her body to the touch as the knowledge her master injected penetrated her being from her mind toward her loins.

Historical knowledge of blood-raged lust and conquest penetrated her mind. The history of an ancient race, predating any she had known appeared in her visions. This was the record of her master; his people and his culture.

Tera witnessed an ancient city in the midst of an icy valley composed of towering pyramids and temples dedicated to dark gods as multitudes of conquered slaves were sacrificed upon the altars of the ancient ziggurats permanently staining the marble structures with the life blood of their subjects. Her master's race existed as the victors, performing the ritualistic sacrifices in the name of their deities. A warrior culture fulfilled with blood lust and carnal indulgence that conquered their known continent devoting their lives to the subjugation of inferior civilizations.

Ancient warriors were decorated in armor shorn from golden plate and built as towering muscular frames protecting the priests who performed these rites while common citizens cheered in ravenous lust at the base of their structures. Many of their own citizens became unwilling sacrificial pawns in their own sinister rites. Their priests and priestesses alike who performed the rituals adorned themselves with elaborate fleeting robes of a sheer material that offered little to cover their naked forms underneath. These robes were lined with prestigious jewels and other artifacts that evoked respect and royalty amongst their class.

Her master showed her another timeframe when as a teenager, he thrust a sacrificial blade into the chest of an old man, skewering the heart from the chest and consuming the soul of the man through esoteric methods. The master was thrust into a position of royalty amongst his people to continue the legacy of his race conquering by sea and land the rest of the known planet that had been lush and vibrant. This, she was told by hissing voices, was ancient Roth.

Roth had been a planet of vibrant life and civilization that lasted thousands of eons before the known Galactic standard. The ancient master had been defeated twice before by a family legacy of knights that worshipped and honored gods of a noble standing. Having been banished in the ancient afterlife his people had worshipped within the Eternal Chaos, he resurrected thousands of years later, empowered by the dark gods his culture had worshipped. In an ancient ritual, he overcame the powers of his dark gods to become the living embodiment of darkness; ultimate conquest as transcribed by his race's ancient prophecies. He reigned for a thousand years as a living god; the people of his planet lived in fear of his powers as he promoted his own race in positions of authority. They called themselves the Sith'ari.

His reign came to an end when his physical body could no longer keep up with the demands of his omniscience. Death came on his own accord when he willed the state of being. Without the threat of death, he thought, he no longer felt a reason to live. His mind had possessed all the knowledge his cells could process, no longer capable of keeping with the intricate details of evolving life throughout the Force. Physical bodies could no longer contain him, but as a spirit his powers became immense.

Dissenters saw his physical death as an upheaval, the Sith'ari countered and a vicious war ensued upon Roth. Devastation consumed the planet with rudimentary weapons of mass destruction infused with dark magic and the surviving Sith'ari fled in crude starships that were powered by their rituals. For many years they fled, landing on various planets to inhabit and call home; Lehon, Korriban, Byss, Prakith, traversing unchartered expanses of space guided by occult rituals.

Upon landing on the various planets, the Sith'ari fused their alchemies to create subjugated slave races; never learning from their mistakes. On Lehon, the amphibious prime species evolved with Sith magics into a bipedal slave race to build temples devoted to the master Sith'ari. Over the years of subjugated abuse, the Rakata conquered their masters, ending their bloodline on Lehon completely. They reverse engineered their master's knowledge for themselves eventually becoming an Empire. The same occurred on Korriban where Sith'ari alchemy created a red-skinned humanoid slave race. The Sith'ari never learned their mistakes as the alchemies were prone to corruption and manipulation upon subsequent use. It was this trigger that created the violent tendencies of their slave beings to overthrow them. On Korriban, the Sith creations adopted the master race's name, and devoted themselves to worshipping their slain gods and holding power of them, vowing never to be enslaved again.

As the last of the Sith'ari left Roth, the will of the dark side shut off the system from the rest of the Galaxy. The yellow star was snuffed out and collapsed into a white dwarf cataclysmically sending its surrounding planets into icy death. The close proximity of the star to the Galactic Black Hole made travel back to the home planet treacherous at best, lending further to the legends behind the planet. Roth itself died, forming into a cesspit of decay. Sulfuric miasma encompassed the planet, save for the life giving Force that emanated from the tomb of Tera's master relishing the mountain valleys in the former atmosphere that allowed the planet to once thrive.

As the dark side ebbed upon Roth, the planet became a Force magnet for dark side souls in the afterlife. Tera's master consumed the living energies of the damned, maintaining their purge in the afterlife never to leave the consummate black hole that existed within the Force. A few dark-siders escaped their inevitable fate upon death, but once their spirits were exorcised from their haunts, Roth consumed them.

It was here that Tera's master tortured them amongst his vile creations; Sith creatures of his originality and of his magnificence that could not be created by any other. Amongst these visions, Tera saw the future; pain and suffering. Death came to all who ventured here. As her visions concluded, she found herself stripped naked; her proportionate voluptuous frame found pleasure with her master who sat upon an electrum dais in front of her robed in onyx. The cloak covered most of his features save the jaw line and his elongated fingers ending in perfectly-kept razor-sharp fingernails in stark contrast to the ghastly hands that she had witnessed before.

"Master," she bowed, arms covering her chest, "I provide myself as your medium, spare me death and I will myself to you. Before you, I beg to serve and please."

"Service me with internal suffering and I may spare you eternal enslavement," her master's bass octave resonated. Tera's pheromones penetrated her master's senses, "Time is terse. Come, fulfill your destiny. I look forward to you and your friends."

A wry smirk graced the lips of her master that she could make out amongst the cloaks. Her vision became dark, pitch with black as her soul formed again with her physical body; clothed and warm amongst the fires of the hearth she had made the night before. Tera opened her eyes to welcome the new day's light trickling into the cave. Her first sight was Mandin's chest as she discovered she was resting upon her lap as Mandin caressed her forehead with a gentle grace. Cresta and Hol'en seated themselves on the opposite side of the fire. All three girls had been talking for a period of time while Tera was unconscious.

"We must hurry, we are close," Tera muttered.

"Tera, you were out for hours, we waited for you to return. What happened to you?" Mandin asked.

"I had a vision, a vision of the history of this place, of our master in his youth and what happened to this planet. This path we have taken has led us to the birthplace of the Sith."

"Impossible! That's Korriban," Cresta argued, "This planet is nothing like it from what I have read."

"Korriban?" Tera rose up, still seated against Mandin's chest and spat upon the cave floor at the utter hearing of the name, "Korriban was a refugee planet for our Master's people. They created the redskins as a slave race. The slaves rebelled and took the name of Master's race as their own, calling themselves the Sith and using Master's magics as their own. This is why we're here, to bring Truth to the galaxy. A truth that will lead to its demise as Master consumes the galaxy in His rage.

"We must leave soon, our calling draws nigh." Tera lifted herself from Mandin's embrace, scraping icy dustings from her clothing and hair. Doubt formed in Cresta's mind each time that Tera spoke. Did she really believe the nonsense she spoke or was this quest truly for revenge? Tera would hold sacred her reasons for the quest, only that the desire for power could be theirs with the resurrection of this ancient being. She promised her sisters revenge against those that have wronged them; the overbearing mother, the cheating boyfriend and the abusive families, but her lust was filled with the death of the Jedi.

Cresta and Hol'en followed Tera and Mandin to exit the cave, clutching each other's hands as doubt scrawled across their faces. The two junior girls had been promised desires they would never have in life. A life of freedom from the oppression they were raised in, a life of immeasurable wealth and command. Unbeknownst to them, Tera lied the whole time. As each passing footstep and danger that Roth brought forth, more questions formed in their minds. They wondered if this creature really existed only as a figment of Tera's imagination. They saw and heard the acts that she hypnotized Zayne with. They wondered if Tera was only playing mind games, simplistic acts of ventriloquism and special effects from tools hidden underneath her dress to provide an illusion that she was powerful.

Of course, to Tera, this was all part of the game. This was her skill all along, holding her powers in check so as to prevent others from learning her true natures. Unconsciously, she hid them as a child but only under the tutorship of the ancient Sith did her powers grow. They taught her patience and most of all constraint. Her knowledge grew with each passing night under the guided meditations of her slumber as she lay meters away from the tome with which she held most dear. Luke's meditations acting as a Force beacon for the Sith Masters conditioned her Force powers into a finely tuned expertise. But what Tera did not count on was the ancient traditions that all Sith manifested and her own downfall would be the culmination of eons of Sith discipline.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Bna'hai tended to Zayne's comatose body as long as the Force permitted. She had remained vigil the better part of eight years. A Jedi could not allow a life to suffer and perish, but to sustain it so long as the heart pumped blood. She understood another soul possessed it and amongst her scrolls and holocrons no remedy existed to exorcize the foreign invader as each attempt made resulted in a violent assault on her being.

The spirit within Zayne grew weary of its surroundings and almost daily the mouth spewed vile curses towards the Jedi Order. She learned who the patient was during her watch; Zayne Dax had been a valiant fighter pilot during the Yuuzhan Vong war who had inherited a legacy of wartime credentials and after the Vong war ventured into the private sector to become a courier of passengers and cargo. The dismembered protocol droid was in service to him from his employer, a Toydarian based on Nal Hutta's moon. Zordo's son yielded little information about his father and his associates since Zordo passed away two years after Zayne's disappearance on his latest fare.

Jedi inquisitions into the dealings of Galactic citizens drew suspicions from the GAG and Natasi Daala's regime. Much of her inquiries yielded little more information at the risk of drawing further attention from the Alliance Guard. _The Red Dawn's_ navigational records were destroyed prior to hyperspace jump and GFFA records were off limits to the Jedi Order since the general populace distrusted Jedi since the conclusion of the Second Galactic Civil War.

Bna'hai and her fragment of the Jedi Order became recluse after Luke's imprisonment resulting from his Convocation. This news resulted in lost faith amongst her students, yet her perseverance and insistence molded her pupils into resilient outcasts to the remaining secular galaxy. It remained her goal to solve the mysteries of Zayne's journey, a task which led her to her dying moments.

Bna'hai lied on her deathbed; her physical appearance reflecting the age of a centenarian showing decades of struggles and pain, torment and setback despite the fact that Zayne had only been in her care for eight years. Each waning breath strained through her lungs as she sighed and wheezed The Jedi Woman's body lied frail and in appearance of sickly dehydration. She clutched the hilt of her lightsaber, the only object she valued most in life and would pass on.

Two of her Knights flanked either side of her cot, younger than she when she accepted the rank of Master thirty years ago. The female Zabrakian Knight stroked the remains of her graying hair as Bna'hai painfully swallowed what little saliva she could produce.

"Master Bna'hai," the female spoke, "you can't die."

She weakly chuckled her voice strained every word that followed, "Master Luke told me he said the same to Master Yoda. Jeren, you must lead the library now, but under no circumstances should you continue my research."

"Mistress," the male Knight inquired, "why?"

"A great evil binds him, Garon" she swallowed, "an ancient evil that has no match. This being has drained me. It is too late to save me now. Heed my warning. Do not let it consume you as it consumed me or all hope for our Order for the galaxy is lost."

"Mistress, you did not let it consume you. You did what was just," Jeren, the Zabrak reminded.

"Yes, Jeren. The ancient spirit fed on my good intent and drained me. What you witness is the fate of the galaxy if this being is not stopped. Find Master Skywalker, only he can save us."

"Mistress," Garon began, "he has forsaken us here on Ossus. He remains on Coruscant brooding like the farm boy he once was. We are the true Jedi, we are all that remain."

"Nonsense!" Bna'hai scolded, coughing as the word strained from her voice. She wheezed again, her body deteriorating further. Jeren held her Mistress's left hand as it rested upon her lightsaber.

"Jeren, promise me that Luke will save us. He... must... save... us." Bna'hai's final words filtered into breathlessness. The light in her eyes dimmed to a silent, blank stare through wrinkled eyelids. As vital signs faded and brain activity ceased, her body grew more brittle than before drying into a stone-cake texture that appeared rough to the touch. Her body shaded into a deathly tone of gray as her finger and toenails quickly blackened as if blood clots formed beneath her cuticles. The eye sockets dried and collapsed inside themselves as decay quickly set in across her mass.

"By the Force," Jeren arose quickly, stunned by the violent decaying process that had overcome her master.

Bna'hai's body slowly dissolved into a blackened carbon dust that stained the white sheets upon which she lay. A purple-colored orb hovered above the silhouette outline where her head once rested. From below the sheets and charcoaled remains, the ghostly reach of an ancient hand proceeded from below the glowing fragment. Tears of skin and fragments of putrefied nails preceded the ethereal rotting appendage that protruded from an ancient war gauntlet that neither of the Knights recognized as they admired the spectacle in shock. The hand wrapped its rotting digits around the remains of Bna'hai's essence clutching it tightly. As the bond strengthened around the glowing orb, a dazzling display of light emanated from between the apparition's digits as both the orb and the hand disappeared into the ether.

A mocking guttural chuckle echoed across the room as the Knights reacted to the voice by igniting their lightsabers in defense. Jeren scanned the room intensely, revolving herself around to face an invisible threat in various intervals of defense. Garon calmed himself and disengaged his lightsaber to place a welcome hand on his comrade's right shoulder.

"Jeren, calm. Whatever it was did not want us."

Jeren disengaged her lightsaber in response, "What could that have been?"

"I don't know, but perhaps Mistress was right and I was not. We must find Master Luke."

Jeren's face frowned into a perplexed state wrinkling her forehead around her vestigial horns, "Luke did not hear us at the Convocation several years ago, and shortly thereafter he was arrested. We have been watching this patient since we found him nearly a decade ago. I have not been able to feel the Force within him; it's almost as if he has been shut off from it. Mistress could not heal him, and Luke has never shown up. We have to avenge Bna'hai with or without Luke."

Garon startled at his friend's attitude revolution, "Jeren, revenge is not the Jedi way. And we both saw what happened after she died. Whatever that was will certainly do to us what it did to Bna'hai. This spirit, this thing is dangerous and it consumed a Master. A Master, Jeren!"

Garon grabbed the Zabrak's shoulders to reaffirm the harsh reality, "Master Luke has access to teachings that we are not prepared for. Certainly there is something he knows. We must not fail."

Tera ceased in her snow covered tracks. Her body rigid as death as rushes of electricity filtered through her nerves before she collapsed like a ragdoll upon the snowy valley floor. Mandin rushed to her aide, startled by her friend's sudden seizure.

"I'm fine, Mandin," Tera comforted as the pair arose, Mandin helping the leader to her feet.

A grin formed across Tera's face. "Rejoice, sisters for Master has consumed a Jedi soul."

Several days had transpired for the coven's perspective on Roth. Every passing moment raised further suspicions amongst Tera's younger friends Cresta and Hol'en. The mammoth canyon with its haunting souls embedded in the mountainsides did little to ease their stresses as each snowy step sunk into the rocky surface below causing their feet to become soggy and blistered. Hol'en trod along; encouraged by Mandin to fulfill their destiny which Cresta and Hol'en hoped would culminate soon.

Roth answered their prayers. The mountainous terrain opened up to reveal a colossal plateau blanketed in heavy snows and surrounded by the range that haunted them. Gigantic flying beasts, similar to those that threatened them upon their landing, hovered and glided thousands of feet above the surface, swooping occasionally to feast on distant soul-prey. Towering ziggurats dotted the landscape, most of which remained in a state of perpetual decay and misuse; relics of an ancient destruction. A central pyramid towered above the other temples, the violet facets shone with the brilliance of a thousand suns composed of an indigenous crystalline lattice that amplified the power within. The capstone of the main structure had been crafted from an alloy with reflective properties of electrum, magnifying the dazzling displays sourced below. The Force called from the central structure acting as a beacon for any who ventured this far.

This valley was the vision Tera saw during her prior meditations. The ancient manual she clutched against her bosom vibrated from within, the Force coursing through her body with a magnificence she had never experienced to this moment. The book acted as a magnet toward the ancient building that arose in the distance, her companion's misguidance corrected itself as if the Force calmed their fears with this ethereal act. Tera surmised the author, her Master, resided there.

Many standard weeks had passed on Ossus since Garon dispatched his second plea to Grand Master Skywalker stressing the urgency of a reply hastened by the death of the Librarian. Frizzled and grayed, Luke mulled over the holo-transmission meditating on the Force for the truth to the transmission. A few clicks of a switch and the recording replayed as many times as he commanded.

Luke's gnarled face had been weathered of years of war and death. His age approached seventy human years and had seen the adventures that equaled more than a hundred standard orbits. His thoughts loomed upon the death of his wife, the death of his nephew at the hands of his niece and his exile almost a decade ago. The Order that he had founded nearly seven decades ago begun to decay, the fragility of their ways cemented by the dire news this message contained.

Skywalker's Jedi knew to send confidential material on secure channels, so as to escape the holonet of the infantile Fel Empire. Luke had exiled himself for a decade in the aftermath of the Second Galactic Civil War and had only recently returned to Coruscant to gather his remaining Jedi loyal to the Republic era Order in an attempt to preserve the teachings of the thousand year old traditions. A few Jedi strayed, forming a core basis of guards in the new Empire as a contingency of Imperial Knights, protecting the new emperor. Jaina, he learned, had sided with her lover and married Jagged Fel to become Empress.

Luke must have heard the frightening words at least a hundred times, each time his heart weighed heavy. He allowed his son Ben to listen to the transmission; a fear unprecedented fell upon his face at the visions presented into the recording.

_Master Luke, I pleaded to you at the Convocation years ago and I ask you again. Mistress Bna'hai is dead; succumbing to the dark side. Master, she did not fall on her own accord as most Jedi do, but her desire to aide a stranger caused this. Years ago, a pilot crashed on Ossus and he has remained comatose in our care. His mouth spews blasphemous bile towards the Order and all life calling for consumption in blackness. What it means, we do not know. Each day, Mistress attempted to help him. We can only conclude that her mere presence in the Force allowed the darkness within our patient to consume her. Master, Jeren and I... no, as Jedi we cannot fear, but as Bna'hai passed, we witnessed... death. Her body dissolved as if ashen, and a light brilliant as a billion supernovae floated above what remained... then it blackened into nothing... consumed by... we can only describe... the embodiment of the dark side. _

Garon's eyes shed tears during his recording as a child would lose a mother. Luke's thoughts focused on the final few sentences mentioned by the hologram, _consumed by... the embodiment of the dark side_. Luke recalled his apprenticeship to the Clone Emperor and the subsequent death of the Emperor by his own doing in a Force Storm. To him, the Emperor was evil incarnate. He had learned of the corruption and perversion to which Palpatine had lied to his father to turn him resulting in the eventual death of his mother. The execution of Jedi shortly followed which lasted for nearly twenty years. The war crimes that Palpatine committed; genocide, torture, imprisonments could not be matched or so Luke thought. Palpatine's followers did not match his corruption. Not even Lumiya, who turned and corrupted his nephew Jacen, could equal Palpatine's deeds. What could this new evil be?

Garon had further informed Luke of the horrific state of this patient that the Ossus library had cared for the past decade. Each attempt to cure him, or awake him caused vicious attacks upon those who hoped to help him. Garon briefed his Master on the patient's past, to which Luke could only regret his earlier request for aide went unanswered.

As he sat upon the paristeel floor holding the holotransmitter, Luke meditated on the Force. Visions of the past and future flowed like a river upon his soul. Twisting together, the Force encompassed him vibrating across his every nerve cell until he felt at one with the Living Force. Through the Force, his mind was guided into a junction point in his distant past, a young girl he discovered on Mos Espa. The image shown clear, her frazzled raven hair and smudged face marked a childhood of destitution and poverty.

His mind concentrated on the training of the girl at the old Praxeum on Yavin Four watching the child hesitate in the Force and her eventual evolution into a teenager. This time, the Force showed him a vision of torment as nightmares haunted the young girl each night as if the dark side consumed her.

_Tera_, he muttered in his visions.

The Force escorted his soul to a fateful event on Yavin Four, the day the Yuuzhan Vong invaded. Praxeum destroyed, young Jedi apprentices dead or minds in disarray save one; his apprentice, Tera. A book, an ancient volume appeared encased in a transparisteel case locked and secure in Luke's private library. Tera's hands grabbed at this volume, clutching it upon her side tightly so that none could pry it from her.

_Palpatine's sacred volumes. No_. Luke appeared worried.

Luke's Force vision ceased abruptly. His eyes focused slowly to accommodate to the bright lamps embedded in his ceiling. After the final death of Palpatine, Luke had scoured Palpatine's libraries on Wayland and other sacred locations for any artifacts and relics that could allow any Force adepts or fallen Jedi to acquire his teachings, preventing them from falling into the wrong hands. The only safe place for these items would be in Luke's possession; sealed away for his own good. Of the most dangerous was an ancient tome which Luke felt the presence of the dark side emanating from within. Never once, during his possession, did Luke unseal the case which Palpatine revered his most vile of artifacts.

Luke knew Palpatine did not write this manuscript, it was far more ancient than he. Luke dared not tread upon the powers leaking from the grimoire for fear that he too would turn nor did the encasement that Palpatine sealed the sacred volumes permit entry. No Jedi holocron or scrolls or other teachings could shed any light on the origins much less the author of the volume. Master Yoda, in all his infinite wisdom of Jedi culture never knew the manual existed. This truly was a relic of antiquity, dangerous to the most inexperienced of Force users and had fallen into the hands of the one student that Luke took the utmost patience with.

Luke rose from his meditative posture, straightened his Jedi robes and turned toward his son, Ben. Ben, now a young man and a father likewise, had seen his own father through rough times since the death of his mother. Ben had recently gained the status of Jedi Master and continued to work by his father's side since the end of the Second Galactic Civil War.

"Father, shall I accompany you to Ossus?"

"No, Ben. I need you to remain here on Coruscant. If this danger is as great as Garon claims, your training may not equip you to stop it. If it claimed a Master as trained as Bna'hai, then it will likely claim you. Besides, who would ensure the safety of your son? You must continue the Jedi Order should I pass.

"Inform Han and Leia that I am travelling to Ossus."

Ben followed his father outside of his personal chambers through the Jedi Temple. Luke's demeanor grew solemn, his face marked a grim tone as he sauntered his way through the Temple. The pair continued toward the hangar bay, the acrid air of ozone and melted grease snaked its way through Ben's nose well before entry. It was a smell he had grown around, but never accustomed to.

The entryway into the hangar swooped open with the rush of sudden air. Each march toward Luke's destination eroded into a sea of discomfort for Ben. He had been by his father's side for many years in support and love, but his father asked him not to join this mission. Ben experienced an emotion which years of Jedi training had not prepared him for. He truly felt saddened by the outcome of his father's actions. He wondered what his father knew that he did not tell any others, including his own son.

Hours before, Luke had notified his technical crew to prepare his fighter to leave Coruscant, he only required Ben to be with him to see his reasons why. Luke's StealthX fighter craft stationed a few hundred feet inside the hangar bay. Ben observed a magnetic lift seating Artoo in the astromech socket. Artoo chirped in appreciation of his native programming, Ben forced a smile through his shadowy beard at the spunky droid's attitude. Luke customized this craft to his specifications to allow Artoo to assist in navigation and weapons controls much like his original X-Wing he used as a member of Rogue Squadron. A hangar crew handed Luke his pilot suit which he began to slip over his Jedi robes.

"A tad antiquated, father?" Ben inquired, "You could just appear to Ossus."

"Use of the Force of that magnitude would easily alert the ancient evil that killed Bna'hai, perhaps ending my mission prematurely before I get the opportunity to study it. If this nexus of the dark side is as strong as the Jedi on Ossus have told me, then I am endangering you, and your family. That is why I must go alone."

Luke's wrinkled visage gazed upon his son, his legacy. Through the Force, Luke sensed the despair sulking within Ben. He reached out with the Force to comfort his son.

"You are the future of the Jedi, Ben. What happened on Ossus must not happen elsewhere. Son, I want you to have this."

Luke reached into his tunics to remove a pocket chain. Attached to the chain was a locket plated with electrum and durasteel. A lone symbol in Aurebesh had been engraved upon the face of the amulet that symbolized the family Skywalker. Ben took possession of the item from his father and opened the device. A holo-recording emerged as the visage of Anakin and Padme hovered above the amulet in Ben's palm. The recording faded to show Luke and Leia branching to their respective spouses and offspring. The locket was a family heirloom that Luke had devised with the assistance of Artoo-Detoo.

"Son, this is our legacy, your legacy. This is why you cannot join me. May the Force be with you."

Luke climbed the ladder into the cockpit and seated himself, a routine he had performed countless times since he piloted his first X-Wing on Yavin Four to bring down the first Death Star. He motioned toward a control room to his starboard side to signal that he was clear. As the transparisteel cockpit window lowered to meet the hull, he began to place his helmet upon his head. Ben stepped away from the fighter craft as it began to lift from the hangar floor. The engines whined into obedience as the StealthX glided across the hangar into the open air ahead. As forward momentum carried the craft toward the Coruscant skies, Ben's tunics ruffled with the rush of air that accompanied the forces propelling the vessel.

Ben focused on the trickle of photon engines of his father's StealthX that flickered into the distance, fading amongst the myriad of Coruscant traffic that criss-crossed the skyways. The hangar doors of the Jedi Temple ground into a loud thud as the new rush of pressure fluttered Ben's robes around his feet. Ben rubbed the shadow of his beard as he glanced upon the replaying image shining from his father's locket. He paused the recording on his father's visage. Luke embraced Mara in this image, their wedding attire draped around them. Ben had not seen his mother in almost ten years and this image brought a tear to the man's eyes.

Would he see his father ever again? Should Luke die, he should not mourn for as Yoda had taught before Luke that all life must end and through the Force Ben would meet them again. Ben knew he would see his father again, hopefully he thought, it would be in the mortal coil.

Artoo chirped in anticipation as Luke's StealthX craft approached orbit around Coruscant, locking its wings together for hyperspace travel.

"Artoo, set coordinates for Ossus. "

Artoo obeyed as ordered, the ever loyal astromech droid performed his duties with vigilance unmatched by any automaton. Artoo chirped a question across Luke's display to which Luke replied, "No Artoo, I'm not going there to read books."

Luke grinned as Artoo responded with what could be interpreted as a binary giggle. The hum of the hyperdrive purred into action as the field of stars ahead of Luke's vision whitewashed into a sea of milky blues and whites.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The planet Ossus shuffled between twin, looming parent stars characterizing its irregular orbit. The StealthX exited hyperspace in a surreal glow that surrounded the craft before the intruding ship turned pitch as space, a characteristic of the design of the fighter craft. Luke performed a manual override to the controls to pilot his craft toward the Jedi planet. Artoo chirped in agreement. The twin suns' gravity tugged at the small fighter craft in a massive tug of war. The artificial dampers embedded within the craft safely aided Luke's navigation in the hostile environment.

He gazed outside into the vast distance of visible space. Stars glistened lazily in the background as Luke began to recite specific stars by memory based on their positions on his horizon. This was a ritual he began to repeat as of late with each hyperspace jump. He figured that due to his extensive experience traversing the galaxy of nearly fifty years he no longer required the aid of a navcomputer to travel to a distant star. Just aim his craft at it by sight and rocket toward hyperspace.

Luke shrugged this condition off as a sign of age and senility. Perhaps his constant space travel was taking a toll on his body or it could have been a condition that spacers referred to as hyperspace insanity. Luke chalked it up to the strained life curtailing his crossing of the galaxy on multiple adventures. _Adventure_, a word he was told what seemed like eons ago never to crave and never to aspire too. Luke travelled where the Force guided him. He meditated on the ancient words of his former Master, a solace he had countless times imbibed upon.

Luke stretched out with the Force, relinquishing physical control of the craft to the manifestation of the Force. Artoo chirped in confusion. Garon's tenor voice crackled across the comlink.

"Master Luke, a thousand gratitudes for your arrival."

Luke spoke telepathically through the Force, his passiveness comforting the young Jedi Knight. The StealthX guided through the blackness of space heading toward the lone planet orbiting between the twin stars. The black craft maintained its quadruple set of wings on the ventral and dorsal side in a flat position across the fuselage to prepare for atmospheric reentry. Luke meditated on this moment, preparing himself for the unknown encounter that rendered his librarian caretaker dead. Focusing on the Force, Luke breathed calmly as his craft slithered into the atmosphere during deorbit burn. He ignored the natural effects of friction against his craft, focusing instead on his being, reaching out for ancient wisdom.

Calm, Luke was at peace. A feeling Luke had experienced and allowed hundreds of times during his lifetime. For a human, Luke was still in prime condition for his age, an attribute to his extensive knowledge of the Force. No Jedi came close to mastering the Force as Luke had since the death of Master Yoda. The Force flowed through Luke's soul as a river would carve out a canyon, keeping him oblivious to the physical reaction of his craft against the shudders of planetary entry, telepathically navigating to an open landing port near the Jedi Library.

Jedi installations required little to no radio communication since most communications relied on telepathic methods. The Jedi ways and methodologies manifested in the Order's specialty ships and technologies as they restored themselves to a height reached not long before Order Sixty Six. Luke's exile and eventual return to the Order signaled a new, quiet restoration, separate from the affairs of the Empire. They would devise their own buildings, their own transport and support crafts and their own style of self-reliance. This, Luke realized, was the original intent of the True Order prior to Palpatine's dissolution.

Luke's StealthX eased onto one of the four landing pads of the Academy. Towering kingwood trees lined the outskirts of the Temple, embracing the craft as it came to rest upon the landing pad. Garon and Jeren stood patiently as Ossusian technicians worked to position to tend to the incoming craft. A crew technician eased a yellow ladder against the hull of the spacecraft. Another flight crewman proceeded to operate a lift toward the astromech socket. The brown robes of the Knights flowed swiftly in the wash of the engines of Luke's craft as it eased to a gradual stop. Jeren gazed at the majestic craft as a magnetic arm swung over the astromech socket to release Artoo. The transparisteel window eased open, revealing the aged Grand Master removing his safety helmet. Luke shook his salty hair and proceeded to disembark down the egress ladder.

"Master Skywalker," the knights claimed in unison, bowing their heads in respect.

"Garon, Jeren," Luke replied.

"Yes, Master. Shall we brief you on our problem?"

"That won't be necessary. Garon, show me this patient."

"Master, did you want to prepare?" Garon requested.

"The Force prepared me in-flight. If we are to stop this evil that consumed your Mistress, we should make haste."

"Of course Master," Jeren agreed.

The trio of Jedi headed from the landing platform down a staircase toward the greater expanse of the Temple where a dark-haired technician, a native of Ossus, awaited on the edge of the landing platform. Luke stopped in front of the crew technician and disrobed from his pilot suit to reveal his darkened robes signifying his rank as Grand Master. He carefully placed his suit into the hands of the awaiting crewman. The Ossian folded his suit and hurried back to Luke's spacecraft, passing Artoo-Detoo in the process.

Artoo wheeled himself behind the Jedi trio, stopping at the start of the staircase and gradually working his way behind his master and his friends. Garon escorted Luke deeper through the majestic main hall of the Academy, beyond the library and toward the infirmary wing. A door whined open leading into the infirmary where Zayne's room was quarantined from the main hospital observed through a double-alloy transparisteel viewport.

The trio paused as Garon briefed Luke Skywalker on the specifics of Zayne's conditions. Zayne's will was no longer his own. His body lied motionless on the gurney attached to wires and tubes sustaining his physical form. Physically, his senses were shut off from the outside world. He no longer perceived using his own neural stimuli; he was nothing more than a vessel. Through the transparisteel, Zayne could sense the Jedi beyond his room. Pulses throbbed and pummeled within his mind, swirling within as a miasma of voided darkness. Through the echoes, his aural senses could hear the voices speaking as if they spoke through a metal tube. Sounds seemed familiar to him as the male and female conversed.

He'd heard them speaking before at various points in his time. He could not make out the words, only the distinctive pitch of their tonalities. The world seemed garbled as if he existed beside it in a parallel plane. Zayne heard a third voice, unlike the former older human female his eardrums had been subjected to. This wasn't the wizened Jedi who had vainly attempted to heal him; no this was a Jedi whose voice resonated across the ethereal dimensions with each syllable he recited. His speech patterns reverberated as if it had a distinct quality, unique to only him.

_Skywalker! _The name resonated across languages as the ancient one who inhabited his body cursed the very name. _Namin ju gos Abom'inious. _The phrase reverberated across Zayne's molecular DNA as the brain translated across eons of known languages; _The Name of the Abomination_.

Through his voids, Zayne faintly detected the slight pings of his monitors increasing in strength as his chest heaved steadier. An alarm triggered in the viewing room as Garon and Jeren looked on through the monitoring equipment on their end. Luke sensed a disturbance in the Force as Zayne's physical body reacted violently to unpronounced stimuli.

"Master, we've never seen him react like this," Jeren proclaimed.

"Patience, Jedi," Luke's voice calmed.

Garon's monitors beeped louder. Zayne's eyelids popped open after ten standard years of silence revealing the blood-red tincture of his pupils. His fingers moved, clinching his fists as his forearms ripped through the paristeel binders with the strength of ten gundarks. Zayne's unkempt fingernails cut deep into his palms. Blood trickled across his palms as the cuts deepened. In a furious rage, his body sprang to life, erecting in a seated position upon his gurney. Shards of flesh freckled with specks of blood tore from Zayne's arms and chest as he violently ripped the tubes and wires protruding from his skin. Exhibiting a never seen strength, the paristeel framework of the gurney twisted and snapped with a sudden push-off from his arms and ensuing leap as a supernatural force propelled him from his medical bed.

In observed flight, Zayne's body would have appeared graceful in a more elegant setting. However under the circumstances Jeren was taken to shock as the mass of pilot leaped into the air trailed by streams of bloody holes and grotesque fluids foaming from the mouth. A single word screamed from the patient midflight, _Skywalker!_ The attending Jedi had heard the curse, but hesitated in withdrawing their lightsabers in response as Luke's meditations calmed them. Zayne's journey ended as his one hundred and eighty kilogram mass collided with the double-alloy transparisteel viewing screen and collapsing to the floor in a loud thud that shook the infirmary wing through the foundations.

Traces of blood and dislodged teeth remained cemented to the opposite side of the viewport where Zayne's form had impacted. Zayne's physical being writhed in pain on the durasteel floor as his seizure slowly faded into a fetal position. Luke opened his eyes, the entire sequence of events transpired as he calmed himself in meditation relieving himself to the Will of the Force. The Force guided the events that transpired and Luke relied on those actions.

The trio rushed inside the room that contained Zayne as his body lay still and silent upon the floor. Physically, Zayne's body posed a threat no longer, yet the danger lurking in his mind remained. An Ossusian medical technician dressed in light teal scrubs rushed into the area amidst the commotion and assisted in bringing Zayne to his gurney. Fragments of paristeel lay scattered across the floor, the original bindings severed in half at the base from the might of Zayne's actions. The Ossusian hurried to obtain a new pair of bindings as the Jedi placed him down upon the gurney.

"Has this ever happened," Luke asked as the Knights placed the recently recovered bindings upon Zayne's wrists.

"No sir," Jeren answered, "he never reacted like this, ever." Her face grimaced upon her vestigial horns, fear seeped into her mind.

The Ossusian fitted Zayne's bleeding veins with new tubes that trickled soothing anesthetics coursing into his body. Spots of blood were packed and gauzed upon his arms and chest from the source where Zayne violently extracted them from his form. Luke observed the body closely as he clasped his wrists inside the sleeves of his Jedi robes. He noticed subtle changes in age; from the week old stubble upon Zayne's chin to the near un-aged appearance of a man of three decades old.

Through the Force, Luke sensed an internal struggle. Unlike Bna'hai, the soul of Zayne called to him whimpering softly through an abyss of time and space. For a brief moment as Luke focused his thoughts, he could touch Zayne and the war hero that inhabited this vessel. If only briefly, as if the dark side reverberated through Zayne, his blood-red irises shot open as his crimson stained teeth hissed towards Luke. With the combined strength of ten other gundarks, Zayne punched at the Ossusian with his left arm, sending the technician against equipment hanging on the side of the wall fracturing his skull upon impact sending a splatter of blood spray to blot against the wall. His body slid toward the floor as his skull painted a smear of blood during descent.

Luke reacted to the sudden attack. Meditating upon the Force, his feet slid across the floor as if he was floating in air, his eyes closed to the oncoming assault. His Knights reacted by igniting their lightsabers, their glowing hum christening the room in a blue and emerald shine as Luke used the Force to propel himself toward the opposite wall with the still blood-smeared transparisteel plating. Zayne's form lunged toward the Master poised to attack extending brittle nails showing signs of a decade of decay.

Using the Force, Luke envisioned the foamy salivate drenching from Zayne's mouth as previous unknown Force powers emanated from the opponent. Luke sensed no natural connection to the Force from Zayne, but instead detected a presence far beyond him. Reaching toward his attacker with his right hand, Luke suspended Zayne's body in midflight as if held by an invisible cable. Zayne's enslaved form writhed and wretched in lunges and growls. Luke calmed himself against his adversary, focusing on the inner turmoil inside the soul. The Force acted as a sedative as Zayne's body relaxed after a few moments of suspension.

Zayne's breathing decreased into a slight wheeze, bloody foam drenched from his mouth upon his clear white gown staining around his neck. Luke sensed the pain inside and knew that Zayne no longer acted on his behalf as he guided Zayne back to the gurney with the Force. To the Ancient Sith, Zayne was expendable; a pawn for his own amusement and his mission had been served.

The purpose was only to lure Luke to Zayne and for that the mission was complete. Once the Ancient One acquired Luke's signature in the Force, he could find Luke wherever he travelled. The Dark One concealed his presence from Luke insofar that the Grand Master could only sense a faint taint of dark energies. Luke would soon be his. Now, Luke needed to be lured to Roth, and the second phase of the herald would begin.

That evening Luke meditated within Bna'hai's personal study chambers, opening his soul to the Force as the Force permitted him to flow-walk to a time prior to the Jedi woman's fate. Geren and Jaron accompanied him in the physical realm, focusing on their master's visions. He sensed desperation coursing across time. Since Zayne's arrival, she had devoted her care to finding an answer to the ailment, to the dark energies that surrounded him. Bna'hai found odd peculiarities about her patient and through her years of meticulous study at the Praxeum under Luke and her continued study with scrolls and holocrons, she was unable to find resolve. Neither parchment nor recording helped her and through the Force she sought the answers meditating daily inside the infirmary.

Subtle daily exposure to the dark side poisoned her will resulting in her advanced age and gruesome death. She unwillingly succumbed to the dark powers despite her light-hearted attempts. Luke sensed it was not her intent to fall, for in his mind she did not. The daily taint of the dark side filled her soul and masked its attendance within her. Over the years her soul poisoned from an invisible, unworldly existence.

It was this energy that Luke felt years ago at the Praxeum on Yavin Four. His experience had not encountered a dark side focus as strong as the one leaving Zayne. He recalled to his fellow Knights an ancient volume in which he possessed from Palpatine's clone facilities on Wayland; a book so tainted in the corruption of the dark side that proximity to it endangered the soul. Palpatine encased the ancient script in a Force-bound display. Luke sensed the volume that if ever possessed would pose a great threat to the galaxy that he informed his Knights that it was safest kept under his supervision.

"What happened to that book, Master?" Garon inquired.

Luke sighed. He knew his Knights would not accept the answer he was about to give, but neither could he acknowledge the truth.

"During the chaos of the Vong invasion, a student of mine managed to obtain the ancient volume. At the time, I was off world on Coruscant tending to Vong threats there, which is why I come to Ossus alone and why I will leave Ossus alone."

"Master," Garon began, "you adhered to the Will of the Force we cannot fault you for that."

"Thanks, Garon," Luke conceded. More feelings erupted from inside, questions that Luke sought guidance for.

"Garon, I need to ask, how long has this spacer been in your care?"

"Ten years or so Master Luke."

"You observed that his body doesn't age?"

"Sadly, Master Luke, we discovered that the hard way. Bna'hai could not find an answer and felt his pain, his suffering and she knew she could not heal him. The holocrons here did not help her, not even Ood Bnar. After several years she made an attempt to end his pain out of mercy. She brought her lightsaber towards Zayne's chest, and as the blade got closer, it was as if her power source suddenly fizzled and shorted out. Her lightsaber didn't work for almost three days later.

"There is a great disturbance that surrounds him, which is why I think he attacked you like he did Master. Something inside him felt your presence in the Force; he uttered your name Master and has cursed the Jedi since his arrival."

"I do not believe his thoughts are his own," Jeren interrupted, "but whatever spirit possessed him surely is evil."

"It is the spirit of the Sith book, I can sense it. A presence I haven't felt in over twenty years." Luke's resolve manifested on his brow as it wrinkled in disdained anticipation. He clasped his right hand against his forehead to massage the doubt away from his mind.

"He was a spacer, an experienced pilot," Luke continued, "I remember hearing about him fighting in the Yuuzhan Vong War," Luke's eyes darted from Garon, to Jeren, to the ground and almost seeking a response beyond his audience, "He retired from serving the Republic after we won. His father served the Republic during the Clone Wars and as an officer of Palpatine's Empire. His legacy is a long line of experienced spacers and certainly comes from a school of rational thought. Certainly his actions are not his, of this I do not doubt. The spirit that possesses him, I believe, scribed the Sith book.

"This spirit, this ancient evil has him trapped between space and time. I've never seen the Force manifested in such a manner. I've heard of the Force decelerating aging, which is beneficial to human Jedi and possibly helped Master Yoda, but this is not rational. It is almost as if he lingers in a time at a much slower pace than ours, as if he doesn't exist in our plane but the one in which he left. Where did he go? Where did he come from? Those are the answers we need."

Jeren answered, "Master, I wish we knew. All records of his ship's navcomputer were erased. Even his hard-coded astrogation charts were found damaged and scorched and sadly his protocol droid was destroyed by his hands. Wherever he came from, drove him mad."

Garon continued, "It's possible, though not yet proven that his ship made a series of jumps before coming to Ossus. Mistress Bna'hai spoke of a vision she encountered and would only speak of it once. She was in this very room and researching Jedi lore with the symbols we found streaked across the inside of his craft's hull..."

"Symbols? What kinds of symbols?" Luke interrupted Garon as he motioned his hand as if to pause him.

"That's the problem; none of the holocrons could answer us. They predated any known Jedi knowledge."

This revelation disturbed Luke as he sighed heavy. Garon continued, "As she meditated on this night, she encountered a vision of the galaxy with a Star Map following different positions of planets and proceeding to a point towards the center into the Deep Core. That was before her vision was interrupted by a dark side spirit."

"Continue, Garon," Luke coerced.

"She only told us that she sensed pure hatred, a deep vacuum in the Force and the living embodiment of the dark side with this being. It was as if the remnants of all Sith of past manifested within this creature. He looked human she said, but peculiarly he was decayed almost mummified in a suit of armor that predated any known technology and composed of an alloy that her lightsaber should have sliced clean through. She described that she was attacked with the ferocity of a thousand dead Sith seeking revenge simultaneously. His weapon was made of a similar alloy and infused with the Force; that much she knew. No sooner than this thing attacked her, he dissipated in an unseen exhibition of Force powers that nearly crippled her from the intensity."

"Interesting," Luke proclaimed, "This attacker, I've heard stories of ancient Sith that wielded metallic alloy weapons imbued with the Force to wield them against lightsabers; ancient warriors that existed on Korriban and waged the Hyperspace War against the Republic. I encountered the spirit of such an ancient Sith whose name was Karness Muur, but why the Deep Core? Very few stars, much less planets sustain there."

"That's why we thought you would know." Jeren begged, "Surely your repertoire would have answers."

"Most of the holocrons that I could not salvage here were destroyed at the Praxeum. The answers must lie with your spacer friend and we all know how much he adores me. Were you able to find out anything about the ship?"

"Through meticulous data mining, we managed to discover the ship's registration number based on part components and their serial numbers. His ship, _The Red Dawn_, was registered to a Toydarian on Nar Shaddaa who transported cargo and refugees for a price. Zayne was the registered pilot. Further records were off limits to the Jedi and after Bna'hai passed, we were advised to cease investigations until you arrived."

"I think I have some friends that might be of some assistance," Luke goaded and grinned.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Snow blanketed the vacant valley ahead of Tera and her coven. Fresh powder gleamed upon mammoth pyramidal structures that dotted across the vast expanse. Icy tentacles latticed across dead trees that appeared to have never bloomed in millennia. Harsh winds howled across the faces of the women biting against them with reddened faces. Their bleak clothes did not prepare them for this weather; this was the icy cold bitterness that reflected upon her Master's heart.

The group proceeded through the valley, covering themselves with their arms against their chests. Ice crystals formed against Tera's lips as she shivered uncontrollably. She had made it this far, she would not fail she would remind herself. Most who sought to gain the untold knowledge died in orbit, others were lost in the disruption of navcomputers caused by the proximity to the Galactic Black Hole. She landed, that much she could be grateful for.

They continued past the bleak trees glittering with fresh ice. They whispered to Tera. Screams of cold breaths filtered across her path as the tortured souls wailed for her attention. They were the lost Sith'ari, those who failed in the eyes of their master being defeated by their own creations. These souls failed to properly fulfill their conquering ways and allowed the Korriban and Rakatan slaves to destroy them. These souls were forever blasted by the icy breaths rolling off of the mountains. Promises broken, the fate of torture close to their Master's dark heart was their ultimate demise.

Tera surmised it can only get worse. Mandin followed close to her, sheltering each other for warmth as Cresta and Hol'en hovered close behind. All four marched in a close square, relying on each other's body heat for warmth. Through the snow, Tera could make out their destination; the magnificent crystalline pyramid broadcasting its omniscience in the distance. Through the pathway, they were led to the opening markers signifying the beginning of the ancient city.

Similar hieroglyphs as etched in Tera's book had been scarred upon the primordial, forever silent stones. She could not understand them, nor did she choose too. Tera only understood that her treasure lay beyond in the ancient temple. As she approached the entrance to the ghost town, the pulses of power coursed through her veins giving her a renewed sense of strength and for a moment she neglected her body temperature. Cold death waited. She sought guidance in the Force, finding comfort in the dark side to show no fear.

The caps on the stepped pyramids showed signs of wear and decay; most remained intact others showed no signs of completion as the tops had been rotted away. Tera counted dozens of these structures, all modeled similarly with massive stones raised for their construction with a single staircase stretching towards the precipice facing inward toward their respective pathways. An unnerving familiarity engulfed Tera's soul; a disturbing déjà vu to which Tera could vaguely place.

She observed across the ancient valley of death-ridden ice, collecting the sight of the massive pyramidal structures that composed the primordial civilization. Then, it struck her. She recalled the layout of the lines, the buildings, the roads and pathways. In her years of study at the Jedi Praxeum on Yavin Four, she had come to familiarize herself with the layout of the ancient Massassi temples that predated Luke and the modern Republic. Fashioned by Naga Sadow, utilizing his Massassi warriors to construct the massive structures, the temples on Yavin Four reflected upon a ceremonial function to the domination of the Sith and their culture on Korriban. Sadow constructed them in a unique pattern and layout that at the time held some form of significance that had been lost in the flow of time.

The Force guided Tera to the significance as the layout of this rotting city mirrored that of the temples of Yavin Four. Guided by the Force, Tera surmised that Naga Sadow fashioned the layout of his grand spectacle to mirror that of the aging city plan before her. Perhaps, through some arcane rituals lost in time, Sadow hoped to harness the powers of the ancient Sith gods through his glorious temples in bizarre spells and incantations. The group continued toward the stone markers that signified the entrance and were greeted as coldly as the weather surrounding them.

A ghostly apparition materialized at the stone gateway, garbed in foreboding raven robes manifested in an aura of shadow. The form showed no face save for a single pair of glowing crimson eyes that seemed to resemble a tall Jawa. Whereas Jawas generally were pushy, yet backed off when cornered; this being hovered at the entrance of the pyramid city as Tera calmly approached ahead of her sisters.

In a whispering tone, the being spoke, "_Namen ek Babalon, gavkap'irn. Ni'ckar su komar wom Ab' Ysikar?"_

The words coursed through Tera's ears as her Basic brain could not decipher as she heard. The speech reverberated through her DNA to a base language her human species could decode, an ancient tongue that seemed to manifest into her brain as an instinctual response as roughly translated into Basic. _My name is Babalon, gatekeeper. What do you seek from the Abyss Womb?_

Tera hesitated to answer clutching the ancient grimoire close to her chest. Her frozen lips emptied a response, "We seek the knowledge from our Master, The Ancient One: Tomen Kylaka."

Shadowy smoke billowed from below the creature's floating form encompassing Babalon in an ethereal eeriness. His form contradicted the icy glaze that blanketed across the valley and intruding pyramids as he hovered above the ancient marker stones. Cresta attempted to gain Tera's attention to tap on her shoulder, Tera rudely shrugged her off. The being looked down upon Cresta who returned his icy stare with one of her own manifested with the icicles forming upon her eyelids. He could read the girls' thoughts and returned an answer formed in the native language of his confronters.

Babalon spoke in a whispering hiss that seemed to faintly growl, "No one passes, save I will it. Your feeble act of defiance would be your undoing. The knowledge of the Ancient One is permitted to those I deem worthy. Do you will yourself to the Gates?"

"Whatever gets us past," Tera answered reluctantly. Her Master's guidance never acknowledged this obstacle in her meditations.

"The Gates of Babalon deem your answer unworthy."

"This is ridiculous!" Tera cursed, "Master did not prepare me for this!"

A surge of violent electrical pulses coursed through Tera's body starting at the base of her spine arcing through her limbs and extremities within her torso. Within her brain a vibrating hum surged through her eardrums torturing her with audible assaults. Her sisters stepped away with expressions on their faces of shock and disbelief. Cresta and Hol'en proceeded to clutch one another in fear as Mandin looked on unable to save her friend. As the lightning surged through Tera's body, the ancient volume collapsed to the ground. Wisps of ice dust plumed from the impact.

"By the Force," Tera began as blood trickled from her nostrils tickling the ice formed on her upper lip. She clutched her temples as the intense echoes of ancient ghosts boiled through her mind.

"I submit!" Tera screamed. Instantly her torture ceased as she collapsed to the snowy grounds to all fours. She breathed heavily as vermillion blood stained the fresh snows below her face. She wiped her face from the icy liquids.

"Do you will yourself to the Gates?" Babalon demanded a second time. His eyes glowed brighter as his whispery voice boomed from impatience. Mandin, Hol'en and Cresta answered with a resounding yes fearing the same fate as their leader. Any doubts washed away from their minds as Tera begrudgingly lifted from the ground and answered in suit.

"You are the will of the dark side made manifest. You possess the _Liber'um Ab' Ysikar _as Master has foreseen. To pass, you must break your physical self into a spiritual awareness. Only pure hatred of the darkest of hearts will please Master."

Tera bowed onto one knee to the ancient spirit, her sisters followed behind her ignoring the bitter cold biting at the skin through their sheer clothes. The dark side required its followers to destroy their past selves and submit to their deepest of fears. No dark sider in histories recorded had ever performed the purification ritual required at the gates of the Abyss as Tera stood before.

Dark Purification, the most arcane of rituals, had never been observed by any dark sider past or present. Many Sith have embraced the dark side, and metaphorically killed their pasts in a collective cleansing, yet none had ever experienced the pains of the act from its source. Spiritually, Sith entered the realms of Chaos through their minds and hearts, but none dare physically enter the true origins of death. Tera embraced her fate.

As if in a collective mind, the four uttered in unison, "Our souls follow the will of the dark side; it is by our will we submit to a higher authority of spiritual awareness. We have offered ourselves to become our Master's will. We open our hearts and our bodies to the will of our Master."

A flush of energies blanketed the foursome as Babalon erupted in a flurry of cerulean violet bursts of ethereal display. Through the will of the dark side, their souls became bound to their fate. The baptism continued unabated until each of the four women glowed and sparked with vermilion arcs of pure dark side energy form. Their eyes and orifices glistened, Hol'en's lekku glittered, and static shocks pulsated through the human's hairs. As the pyrotechnics occurred, Babalon's form had been replaced by a shapely, feminine form.

The woman had been garbed in ancient attire that Tera concluded had been a priestess of the defunct culture. A golden headdress adorned her shining scarlet locks that had flowed along her spine to the small of her back. The helmet covered the sides of the priestess' ears and a golden necklace with a heavy amulet adorned with the ancient hieroglyphs slipped across her clavicles. Silky robes clothed her body to her ankles made of a sheer material that exposed the naked, ample body underneath. Elaborately inked tattoos encircled along her thighs and arms in a seductively tribal design. Jeweled bracelets covered her wrists as she held a body-length scepter in her left hand. The crest of the scepter had been adorned with a red stone that shimmered amongst the faint light from the fading star above.

The priestess' pale skin reflected the light of the icy valley as she stood almost a half meter taller than Tera. In her, Tera saw a reflection of herself sharing emerald-green eyes and similar physical features. To Tera, it was like looking in a mirror. Babalon had manifested into her true form and spoke in a humanly, feminine octave.

"You have willed yourself to our Master, go now and fulfill destiny," her voice spoke softly. Babalon gracefully motioned her right hand in an elegant manner sweeping from her left ribs to the direction of the central pyramid that signaled to the foursome that it was safe to pass. Tera reclaimed the ancient tome from the ground. The group began to march beyond the marker stones trailing their footprints behind in the snow. The test of fealty marked a scar in Tera's soul. She questioned her purpose, and for that she was tortured. She was put in her place as an inferior apprentice by the one she owed her allegiance to.

The way of the Sith; master and apprentice, one to hold the power the other to crave it. The Ancient One did not hold any honor on the Rule of Two for his way was the Rule of One. One Sith to rule and none shall hold rank equal, none would live. The Rule existed to serve only the Ancient One, and there would be no subjects just death existing with the One. All would die, and the galaxy would be void to mold as the Ancient One saw fit. Tera was not only an apprentice, but a lesser being to him worthy only of the ultimate fate. He was immortal and to his methodology, none shall crave that save he. All others were unworthy and deemed as inferior objects.

Marching past the mammoth structures, Cresta gazed behind her shoulders through her violet locks at the gates that tested them and the female form that once motioned them inward had vanished with no traces. Was the test a figment of her imagination she wondered? She glanced at her exposed flesh and the scars of electrical burns that still smoked of burnt carbon and ozone confirmed her suspicions. There was no turning back. The sins of the coven would follow them and their ultimate fate would end here.

The central pyramid temple loomed in the distance nearly two kilometers. The violet toned facade shone brilliantly upon the bleak snowdrifts that surrounded it. The snows were unnatural to the nearby sulfuric atmosphere and Cresta believed that the anomaly was testament to the powers of Tera's master. An eerie still hovered among the surrounding structures of the city as if any civilization had long died eons ago.

Mandin and Tera continued ahead as Cresta and Hol'en slowed behind them. Echoes of a lost time slithered among the pyramid temples in the forms of dark shadows and faint whispers seemed to discuss rumors and curses. Cresta picked her ears with a single finger hoping she was the only one that heard them, but Hol'en confirmed the noises too. A shadowy form snaked across the snow behind the coven. Whispers grew louder and more sinister as the form loomed closer.

Hol'en spotted the figure first approaching from the South. She glanced over her left shoulder as the estrich form flowed across the blankets of snow as a snake would slither across the ground. No sooner than she spotted the frightful apparition it disappeared upon sensing her gaze upon the shadow. The group migrated closer to the looming temple, only for the whispers to grow louder with each step.

An uneasy feeling of looming death frightened Hol'en as she tapped on Cresta's shoulders. The pair signaled to Tera who ignored their pleas. Again as they marched, the ominous whispers continued to carve into their eardrums.

"Not now, Hol'en. We are close. I can feel our Master's touch. Skywalker and his cult will meet their suffering soon."

Tera's ignorant confidence did little to comfort Hol'en. The pyramid drew closer, but Hol'en grew ever more frightful of the haunting premonitions surrounding the party. Deep down Hol'en knew the journey was nearly over and Tera's obsession with the demise of the Jedi would come to an end. Would this be all a bad dream, an illusion perhaps? Would she awake in her soiled mattress on Nal Hutta, fresh from a nightly violation of her drunken step-father? No, she reminded herself. That Hol'en was killed, murdered by the commitments that Babalon had blessed them. The empty darkness that filled her soul reminded her that since the murder of her mother's husband back on Nal Hutta she has been one with Tera, one with the dark side of the Force. She glanced over toward her confidant.

Cresta glanced toward her through her violet locks shorn with ice and snow flurries. Cresta always comforted her as the two were the least experienced of the coven. Anything they encountered through Tera's vengeful lust, they reminded each other of solace comforting. The past few days seemed like an eternity to Hol'en, little did she realize that ten standard years have passed since their arrival on Roth.

Hol'en felt that their bodies weathered through ten days worth of marching and stench. Ten days without hygiene was not normal for her. Daily she would wash the odor of her customers from her body. Cresta, beautiful as she was, appeared distraught and baneful as the journey wore on. The toll manifested in their slowed gaits and limps as the blisters pierced upon the balls of their feet. Tera showed no signs of physical wear despite her desperation to reach this goal.

Tera was strong in the Force, this much Hol'en ascertained. She and Cresta had sparse training in the ways of the Force since joining with Tera. Tera taught them little, just enough to overcome physical obstacles their bodies could encounter through extended sensory and nutrient deprivation. Tera's appearance faded little the past few days. She still appeared clean and sultry, perhaps invigorated with the close proximity to her Master's presence, or merely natural beauty. Mandin, the ever loyal slave exhibited similar traits likely feeding off of Tera's energies.

Hol'en lost track of time as the group approached the courtyard of the mammoth central structure. Within the courtyard, Hol'en eyed a sight of the most horrific. Lined along the center of the courtyard leading to the central staircase were rows of stakes stabbed into the snowy grounds. Upon these stakes were bodies tied to the palisades upside down naked upon their perches exposed to the harsh elements. Hol'en did not recognize the beings tied to the poles, however Tera expressed discontent at the outcomes of these individuals.

These were the souls of the truly damned; Sith Masters forever punished for their shortcomings to the Sith Order. Tera recognized one in particular, the apparition that coerced her powers back on Naboo. Suspended with his head facing toward the ground, icicles crusting upon his empty eye sockets recently plucked by a carnivorous beast hung the soul of a young Palpatine. His hair slicked back in a perfect widow's peak as he appeared in his youth. The skin surrounding his empty oculars had been scarred and consumed as ice-dried blood formed rivers along his forehead toward the ground, causing his head to appear in a bloated state as blood coalesced with gravity. Other Sith Masters were suspended in similar manner; Exar Kun, Naga Sadow, and others of which Tera had not learned, each of them tortured by the elements and various beasts that snacked on the living souls.

The courtyard was eclipsed by the polyhedron building towering into the atmosphere at least a kilometer high. The capstone shone of a brilliant electrum alloy vibrating with the intense energies manifesting from within. The ethereal vibrations were felt by all four sisters despite the majority having little to no training in the Force. It was a natural hum ebbing across time and space transcending through the very fabric of the DNA each woman possessed.

Violet colored facades lined the edges of the towering complex which seemed to imprint into the soil many thousands of feet in circumference. A staircase spanning hundreds of feet along the height of the pyramid had been carved into the quartz-like stone that faced the massive, ancient city. Tera paused as fresh snows drifted upon her face while she gazed and awed at the massive size. Raven locks of ice-drenched hair flowed upon her face as she smiled in a wicked glee. The culmination of a lifetime of servitude was soon to be realized.

"Sisters, we have arrived."

"You owe me, Skywalker," an aging template voice scolded, "The service of the Mandalores do not come cheap."

"Consider us even, Fett. My niece sends her regards," Luke answered.

Luke closed the transmission broadcast on the console in front of him. He seated himself at the librarian desk, brainstorming on the information that downloaded in front of him from Boba Fett.

Boba Fett and his Mandalore clans scoured the galaxy for the information that Luke requested; the final transaction of _The Red Dawn. _Through various scouting networks and connections, Boba Fett was able to confirm the ownership belonged to a Toydarian named Zordo. This much Luke already knew, yet the final transaction took place for a mysterious client that was dubbed _Rothcorp_. Through various records, no such organization was found but Luke determined it was a fictitious name as a front.

The final destination was uncharted. Records of Zordo's clients logged an indeterminate coordinate location for the final jump of Zayne's ship. As required by GAG standards ten years ago, all records of ship jumps were required to be logged by the noted registrar on record and handed over to the GAG in a timely fashion. Zordo never logged the ship missing, for fear of retribution from the client, the GAG never hunted for the craft.

Luke poured over the entire list of clients Zordo's company charged. Most were recorded as false shipments to various locales that Luke figured was to keep the GAG off of his business; internal shipments logged under his company name with a simple cargo manifest of supplies. The final transaction however, listed an odd occurrence. The transport did not consist of a single jump, but a multitude of jumps crisscrossing the galaxy from Nal Hutta to Tatooine on to Naboo then Byss. The next jump ended in Corulag space for a layover of twenty four standard hours. Another couple jumps sent _The Red Dawn_ to Ilum and Fondor, only to cross again to Felucia and Wayland.

Why the deception, Luke wondered. After Wayland, the ship jumped a final time to a coordinate that existed beyond known lanes, deep into the Galactic Deep Core where hyperspace routes were dangerous and deadly and any records of the ship would be lost due to gravitational forces interfering with the hyperdrive. It was from this point that Luke meditated on the Force.

The Force provided his answers as he followed the path of _The Red Dawn_ from Wayland into the Deep Core. Luke now had a reference, having touched upon the pilot with the Force he could envision the final moments he had while sane. Luke saw death as the ship left hyperspace into unchartered regions.

The cold darkness of the Galactic Abyss encircled _The Red Dawn_ as it passed long dead planetoids and moons toward a planet looping around a detached white dwarf. Luke reached out with the Force, as intense magnetic pulses pulled upon his being. This system should not exist, he thought. Through the Force, the intense black hole in the center of the galaxy tugged at Luke's thoughts, it was through here that all life began and would cycle to end.

Luke paused, and sensed the icy heart of a planet bubbling with a caustic mix of sulfur and methane in the atmosphere. The Force flowed from the orb with an intensity that Luke had not known. The planet existed outside of the natural flow of life, beyond time and space. What was this place, he inquired. His inquiry proved painful.

Before Luke could touch out with the Force to feel the planet, an intensely sharp twinge pierced inside his skull pounding it into a blinding submission. Luke's face cringed in agony as he collapsed to the floor clutching his temples with an intensity he had not felt since Palpatine's lightning onboard the Second Death Star. He reached through the Force to calm his senses to remove the torture only to hear a dark voice echo through his brain.

_Ju e'ind dra gal'xi ardru min, Je'dai Sk'wrakar_

The sinister command rushed through Luke's brain as his ears could not audibly distinguish the ancient tone, yet it resonated throughout his DNA as an instinctual doctrine; _you and your galaxy are mine, Jedi Skywalker. _

This voice caused his brain to tremble with a rush of Force energies; an ancient voice he'd heard only days earlier when Zayne attacked him. This Ancient Sith did not want to be found, and having distracted Luke long enough, the scrutinizing agony subsided moments later. Luke sensed that the Ancient Being constantly presided over him. The pain was enough for Luke to notice the stream of blood trickling from his nose as the intense pulses broke capillaries inside his sinus cavities. He wiped the crimson rivers away, smearing across his upper lip as he stumbled back to his feet.

Luke knew through prior visions that Tera had taken control of an ancient book he once possessed from Palpatine. If it was Tera that hired Zayne to take her to this ancient planet, then that is where he would find her. He added the clues together; the ancient Sith, Zayne's death-like trance, and the Force attacks that he and Bna'hai had experienced. As Bna'hai drew closer to discovering the ancient planet, she too was attacked. But how, Luke wondered, would he venture to this planet?

Did it exist outside of time? Would hyperspace coordinates apply to this place? Somehow Tera got there, but only through the Force or sheer blind luck could one find an unchartered hyperspace route. There were reasons the Deep Core remained largely unexplored, but as Luke discovered, this planet travelled dangerously close to the Galactic Center to the point that hyperspace navigation equipment rendered useless resulting in eternal displacement only to be succumbed by the immense gravities of the black hole.

Luke realized the planet was a dark, lost world of death surrounded by the very rips of the fabric of space-time. This is why Zayne did not age, Luke concluded. Zayne existed in a plane of time separate from Galactic Standard. As the galaxy aged a year, Zayne aged a day. Luke calculated that this must be the time reference that the dark planet resided within. No physics could explain this, and neither, Luke thought could the Force for this system should not live, but only through arcane measures employed by this powerful Ancient Sith could the Force permit its existence.

Luke hobbled from the floor using the table as aide as he seated himself into his plasteel chair. He slumped over, his head folded within his arms as he continued in deep thought and meditations. This time, he dare not attempt to find the lost planet, but instead focused on the more subtle aspects of the Force; connecting with his wife and others he once loved. The surrounding lamps illuminating the ceiling of this library flickered in and out of luminescence as Luke communed with Jedi he once knew.

Who was this Ancient Sith that attacked him and why had ne never heard of them? Luke was versed in the history of the Galaxy and the empires that rose and fell. Jedi scrolls told him of the ancient Rakatan Empire that existed thousands of years prior to the Old Republic his father had served. Jedi records ended there; only to describe that living civilizations adhered to the technologies the Rakatan possessed. Other civilizations existed that travelled through space, but nothing outdating further than one hundred thousand years before the Old Republic.

The most ancient of Sith that the scrolls described was a Prakith named Darth Andeddu, but Luke knew he had long since buried never to bother the galaxy again. But, Luke concluded, this ancient one predated Andeddu from a civilization long forgotten and erased from the annals of history.

"Palpatine's sacred book," he thought aloud, "that is the key to the mystery. Tera must have retrieved the information from them and hired Zayne to take her there."

Luke's heart dropped. He sensed failure, his blue eyes retreated inside his eyelids as his aged face sulked as a rattling sigh blurted.

"I failed her masters. I failed the galaxy."


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Piercing ice whipped by the ferocious winds penetrated through the clothes of the Sith coven as they climbed the mammoth staircase toward the entrance of the pyramidal temple. Each agonizing step trembled through the calves and thighs of the foursome as the incline seemed impossible to apex. The valley seemed vast from this perspective as rows of ancient and derelict pyramidal buildings dotted across the barren landscape amidst the mountains that pierced through the thick icy smog. Every step strained into Tera's darkened soul; her goal must be nigh she felt. As the torture persisted, Tera encouraged her sisters with vile curses against Luke and the Jedi.

With each vulgar sentence Tera spewed her violent hatred, Hol'en cringed in disbelief. The group knew the injustice that Tera felt she was served, yet each passing moment her curses grew fierce and a welling hatred billowed. Tera sought her revenge and through insurmountable obsession felt that her journey would allow it to occur.

After the pain-staking climb, Tera reached the entrance to the ancient structure first, bending over to clasp her thighs and calves in agony. Mandin followed suit with Cresta and Hol'en bringing the rear a few moments later. The cavernous entrance lay beyond, its pitch darkness forming an uninviting signature marred by gusts of winds howling through the walls echoing a sinister sound through the arcane halls.

Tera pressed onward, sparing no time to tend her pains for the Force flowed through her fueled by her anger. Darkness loomed across her face empowered by the sinister energies surrounding them. Cresta noticed it first and Mandin's face appeared stunned as she saw it too; Tera's eyes faded from her human green tones into a sinister shade of yellow hatred outlined with a crimson tinge around her pupils.

Mandin could not catch up to her lover as Tera gained a few meters ahead of her, determined to fulfill her destiny. Tera motioned her fingers in a tickling manner within the air as she faced skyward summoning a glowing orb of light that trickled upon the darkness, glimmering to the sisters' amazement as a faint blue spark designed to guide their human eyes through the pitch. The light of the outside world gave way to an intense shade that soon enveloped them. Cresta and Hol'en rushed toward the other pair so as to not let the obscurity hamper their journey without the aid of Tera's light.

Through the dim glimmer of supernatural light, forms of ancient pictograms and hieroglyphs had been made visible across the cavernous walls. Pictures of ancient rites and figures adorned the sides. One scene depicted a young male, possibly a teenager invoking a rite of passage by killing a peer as the crude two dimensional drawings were scored in ancient coals and dyes. Two other figures looked on in the painting, possibly warriors or elder members of the ancient race congratulating the passage into manhood.

Another dim scenario etched into Mandin's soul as she studied pictures and other glyphs painted upon the walls of this ancient building. This picture stood out the loudest to her as four naked female forms surrounded a central figurehead with lines radiating from the four women. Each of them standing in a position of the cardinal directions as the central being arose in a position of authority adorned in a ceremonial headdress and robes.

The ancient peoples, though crudely drawn, depicted a race of humans or near-humans she thought that eschewed a culture of respect and authority. Their features were marked by perfectly lined jaws and deep eye sockets amongst the males. The figurines that appeared to be authority figures were shown to slaughter the lesser castes in ritual sacrifice to appease faces drawn in the heavens. Mandin concluded the race must have worshipped sky deities far more ancient than the Force.

The group continued into the mammoth walkways whose ceilings rose many meters above; tall enough for colossal statues to line the sides with further hieroglyphs between them. These statues were carved of stone, intricately detailed with battle armor and shields. Their faces were naked, exposing a firmly squared jaw line and high cheek bones with deep set eye sockets resembling the pictures Mandin noticed on the walls.

The clamors of their boots kicked upon the stone floors echoing through the cavernous temple. Mandin felt unnatural warmth as they ventured deeper into the pyramid as if the building appeared immune to the outside elements as if it were equipped with the modern comforts of artificial climate control. Very few of the pictures denoted female forms, and those that did showed the females of the race as obedient servants to the warrior men with the sole purpose of home care and child-bearing. The few exceptions were women adorned similar to Babalon as priestesses of the ancient religion, designed to further the sacred rites of the race. Scenarios of these priestesses echoed that of the lower castes, only on equal footing with their male counterparts yet their roles consisted of furthering the priest caste which was revered most high. Many of the drawings depicted kings of the ancient race bowing to a male and female adorned with the garb of the religious groups while the gods smiled above, reflecting the reverence and respect of the separate castes.

As the group reached a central chamber, Tera's glowing orb zipped across the main antechamber glowing vibrantly across the room lighting dead torches that lined within the ancient auditorium. Four statues lined the corners of the room, each of them similarly designed to the ancient culture that carved them. In their right hands, they bore the torches that Tera's light brought to life, and in their left hands were carved an intricate sword that rested on their sides parallel to their legs and lined with ancient writing similar to Tera's book. It was here that the physical manifestation of the temple had been intended. The grand room shone with a vibrancy that illuminated throughout the chambers, across the four walls and high ceiling that rose nearly twenty meters.

The amber glow marked shadows across the grand gallery of ancient statues and pictograms. The guardians at each corner were proportionate to the four girls, nearly two meters in height similar to human males. Contained within the center of the floor had been an ancient marking denoting what appeared to be a planetary system with eight planetary bodies circling a central star.

This, Mandin surmised recorded the ancient star system that contained Roth. Each of the planets encircled with ever increasing orbits with the third planet becoming the most dominant. Further elimination concluded this may have been Roth. She glanced upward, wiping the melting snows from her hair and face. Upon the ceiling she gazed a horrific sight, an uncolored circle appeared in the center of the ceiling graph a few meters in diameter. From the central object, a lone beast seated inside with crossed legs with the arms outstretched with one pointing above its head and another below its legs.

The crude drawing depicted a simple two dimensional outline of a horned head. Other beings, Mandin concluded may have been deities, surrounded the primary circle; eight of them altogether in perfect symmetry with the orbits of the planets below. Further deductions Mandin made were that the ancient race associated their planets with ancient gods with the horned one being their central star.

But Mandin concluded wrong as she studied the pictograms upon the walls further. Tera permitted her sisters to look around as she partook of the same. The intense scale of this structure mesmerized the four as no human had laid witness to this structure in eons. Internally their DNA reverberated with a sense of awe and instinctual awareness as if eons of human evolution in the galaxy had been rooted upon this planet.

Further viewings of the surrounding markings depicted another carving upon a side wall. The same horned beast that depicted upon the central orb manifested upon the left wall of the primary chambers. The focus object of this picture was the dominant circle, with smaller scaled depictions of the ancient gods holding hands around it. Surrounding the central circle, yet detached in crude scale, the ancient artist carved a steady line of orbiting bands billowing from the center circle. Mandin recognized the spiraling shape.

"Cresta, does this look like..."

"It can't be. But, it is. It resembles our Galaxy. It is our Galaxy." Cresta stumbled to utter the last sentence.

"Proof that our Master's race was superior to others!" Tera announced, her vanity opening itself more prominently than before.

Tera loomed over the ancient hallway, in front of another massive drawing on the wall beside her. Mandin gazed upon it, and noticed the depiction of the same central circle, only this time another being different from the horned god arising from the sphere. This figure wore ancient war regalia, adorned with a weapon in his right hand marked with radiating lines. The figure resembled the being in the pictogram that broadcast the four naked women worshipping it. The surrounding galaxy did not show in this diagram, only the central figure holding dominance.

Depictions surrounding this ancient relic described a history of events. A picture to the left of the primary drawing showed the horned god appeared with two figures, one a priest and the other a female depicted in the commoner clothing. The horned being was drawn in the center of the piece, the female to Mandin's right. The horned god appeared with a phallus, facing the female form. Another graph showed the horned god with a young male, this time shown in a stance to depict a murder of the same priest from the previous block. Other pictures depicted the same figure in various forms as a priest, a ruler and other roles, telling a story in a clockwise direction around the primary picture that stretched across a wide two meter block in same size as the other drawings in perfect parallel with the three forms on the other wall and floor and ceiling.

The hieroglyphs told a legend, Cresta concluded. Was this the legend of a prophecy that the girls were meant to fulfill? Tera seated herself upon the cold stones and consulted the ancient manuscript with the Force. The other girls watched in curiosity flipping between her and the surrounding pictures. Tera informed the group about the ancient race her master had been heritage, this was their primordial home.

Tera arose. Like a child discovering a secret, she frolicked around the antechamber giggling and prancing at some remarkable insight she just received. She skipped behind Hol'en in the corner in front of her by the single figure circle toward a recessed chamber that contained a single dais made of a golden alloy. She approached Mandin standing in front of the dais; her face exhibited a sickening, psychotic display of excitement as her grin stretched the width of her face. She forced her countenance into her lover's, then moved on to Cresta standing behind Mandin and continued the sickening display. Tera clearly displayed an orgiastic flux that trickled throughout her body. She continued to indulge in childish antics as she returned to the antediluvian book that rested upon the floor. This journey was the culmination of Tera's destiny, and only the Force would divulge the final result.

Luke had contemplated the death of the Jedi librarian for the better part of a year, concentrating on the Force to investigate her murderer. The time drew near when his meditations would prove to fruition, yet he still needed a clear answer as to what he was dealing with. He learned of the ancient being that took her life and had learned through painstaking processes where to find him. But how to deal with the ancient being that seemed almost god-like is what perplexed him. He sought the Force for answers, and found none in the ancient holocrons and the ghost of Yoda.

Zayne was nearly impossible since any interaction with him through the Force was dangerous as the body was prone to conducting violent attacks against Luke's mere presence. He was contained, so long as Luke's imprint existed away. Luke meditated on these thoughts as he stood on the hangar platform, gazing into the skies as if scanning for a wayward ship. Geren and Jaron stood next to him in respective stances.

"The time has come where I must depart to face this ancient Sith, I leave you two in good hands with a new Librarian, Master K'Kruhk."

Upon Luke's words, a Jedi transport gleamed into the atmosphere above Ossus. As the ship slowly breached into view, Ossusian technicians scrambled to ready the platform for the arrival. The massive transport touched down upon the platform that outcropped from the Jedi Academy above the canyon jungles below. The transport stretched twenty meters in length and had appeared to show much wear throughout its use. The engines slowed to a steady whine as steam spewed away from the hydraulic mechanisms that opened up the egress hatch. A group of young padawans spilled into the landing platform first composed of a variety of species. Each of them had their own unique demeanor indicative of their species; Twi'leks, humans, Rodians, and a couple Aqualish. Behind them stood a bulky form clothed in simple gray robes of a humble appearance. The bulk's head was adorned with a conical hat that covered much of the face in the darkness of the surrounding ship entry.

The Whiphid Jedi strode down the ramp with a grace contrasting his warrior build. K'Kruhk exhibited the finesse of a war veteran with the grace of a healing shaman. His mind and body had survived countless battles during the Clone Wars and his demeanor manifested the disdain of surviving Order Sixty-Six. So many Jedi cut down in their prime by Luke's father, but K'Kruhk did not hold a grudge against the clan. The cleansing of the Jedi by the Sith was the natural way of the Force, he thought and the knowing fact that Luke's father deposed the Sith Master was retribution enough in his eyes.

He forgave Anakin for his deeds, but was reluctant at first to serve the new Jedi. Years of meditations and continued conflict during the Yuuzhan Vong war brought K'Kruhk to an understanding that Luke was following the true path of the Jedi and continuing the wizened words of Grand Master Yoda.

"K'Kruhk," Luke greeted.

The Whiphid paused in front of the waiting Master, glancing up through his conical hat exposing his tusks formed in his under-bite along his elongated snout, "Master Luke, it is an honor to serve your legacy."

The two Jedi exchanged a gentle hug as Luke briefed him on his summons. The Whiphid motioned his Padawans to continue ahead with Jeren as she took their custody to venture inside the Ossus Temple.

"I am honored that you have chosen me to guard the Jedi archives."

"I thought you might be the best. You were a Jedi during the Clone Wars, you served Master Yoda and you knew my father. Your experience is valued to the Order," Luke comforted. The pair faced the entrance to the Academy behind Garon as he continued into the entryway.

"I heard about Bna'hai. Are you sure you should face this Sith alone? I am willing to offer my saber skills at your side."

"I respect your position, but I must deny your request. The Jedi Order must continue. I must do this alone for the sake of the galaxy, for the Order. I cannot risk another Jedi loss should I never return; especially one of your prowess."

"Skywalker," the Whiphid formed a grin, "you take after Master Yoda too much."

Luke shared a wrinkle-faced grin with the new caretaker of the Library. The pair continued into the main chambers of the Jedi Library with Skywalker escorting him into the private study room. Over the course of a few hours, Luke shared the information he knew about his mission to K'Kruhk. Luke told the Whiphid about Zayne Dax and the curious state his body existed. At various times, the Whiphid expressed concern and sadness over the fact that this Sith had escaped the Order's knowledge for so long. Luke knew little about the history of this culture and shared his conclusion that all information about this character predated even the Rakatan Empire. K'Kruhk reminded Luke about the ancient Rule of Two, but after researching Luke's notes determined this Sith had no regard for the bastardization of power.

If Luke's experiences were any indication, the power resided with one entity to rule over all Sith and any that dared challenge the supreme rank met certain death. All life was subservient to him. K'Kruhk revealed information to Luke which was not covered in the ancient libraries.

"My species has a legend that great warriors once came from the stars eons ago. These star-men bestowed their souls upon the planets they colonized. It is said that we are the progeny of those star-men; evolved from the fruits of their labors."

"The Rakatan?" Luke suggested.

"I'm sorry Luke, but the Rakatan did not come to our planet. The common method to describe this would be that these star-men genetically modified a species to make one to their liking. The Rakatan used ancient, yet recognizable technology to wage their wars. Whiphid do not have any further details of this ancient, space-faring species, other than it is an unproven legend. Any Whiphid of respect does not believe this conspiracy theory." K'Kruhk chuckled upon his last sentence.

Luke pondered on the recent news. He had reason to believe that any legend holds a grain of truth to it. _You'll find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view._ The words of Obi-Wan formed into his brain as he contemplated on this story. His thoughts focused on this past, on his work at the Yavin Academy, on Tera. The ancient volume that he guarded now existed with her. Luke had to find and stop her even if he had to cut her down in battle. The thought sank hard upon him. The lost little girl he found in Mos Espa that he trained in the ways of the Force only for her to hold back. The Force guided his thoughts to reveal that Tera didn't hesitate in her studies, but the Force concealed her abilities.

Tera naturally mastered the art of Force Concealment. It took Luke many years to learn the skill, but Tera's birthright provided it to her. Through the Force, his thoughts focused on Tera slowly drifting through space-time. K'Kruhk gazed upon his Master as he meditated, Luke's eyes raced inside his eyelids as the meditative thoughts coursed through his soul. The Force guided Luke through the galaxy, across the stars towards an ominous temple set deep upon a snowy bank. Within the ancient temple, he spied his former padawan seated upon a stone floor scarred with numerous pictograms with three other females she had seduced.

"I've found her!" Luke alarmed.

"Master Luke," K'Kruhk began, "found who?"

"An old pupil that I knew long ago on Yavin; she's the reason we've been called here. What is in her possession brings danger to the galaxy."

"Master Luke, are you sure you must go alone?" The Whiphid grunted.

"K'Kruhk, I must show you Zayne."

The pair exited the private study chambers and into the grand foyer of the Library. The grand hallway awed K'Kruhk as the brilliant shines from the twin suns spilled upon the floors through the canopy of kingwood trees high above. As they journeyed through the antechambers, the medical wing approached. Sensory doors slid open as they drew near the entry. Within the infirmary, medical technicians native to Ossus monitored activity on the only patient that inhabited on this day, the evermore patient; Zayne Dax.

Through the transparisteel viewport, K'Kruhk gazed upon the invalid man resting quietly on the gurney. Zayne remained motionless; even Luke's presence did not faze him. Many tubes and wires attached to Zayne's body most of them feeding him and providing his body strong muscle relaxants so that his physical body could provide no harm.

"This man courses with the dark side," K'Kruhk observed, "I can feel it strong in him."

"He's been in stasis for ten years, Garon told me."

"Interesting. And Bna'hai attempted to help him you say? Futile," K'Kruhk chuckled, "His dark side taint should have been snuffed out long ago. She always cared too much."

"She tried to give him mercy, her lightsaber shorted out as a result."

K'Kruhk rubbed his chin with his large right hand as he gazed through his mysterious hat, "That is something. I've seen padawans short out their lightsabers, but never a Master."

"The only one who knows what happened that day has long died. I can only speculate that Zayne is wrapped in an alternate time, surrounded by mysterious physics that our physical plane cannot transcend. The lightsaber behaved as it should."

The Whiphid Jedi's massive frame heaved upon a chair next to the monitoring station. He believed Luke, but could not wrap his brain around what he heard.

"Master Luke, you must do what must be done. If this Sith is truly as powerful as I feel and as powerful as you speak, our galaxy is in danger. I respect your decision and you must go alone. I will tend the Library and remain in service as long as I must. May the Force be with you."

K'Kruhk bowed his head in reverence as he turned his frame upon the monitors that gauged Zayne's vitals. Luke exited the infirmary and began a meditative walk toward the private study. He resumed his meditations upon Tera and her group of women inside the mysterious chambers. His visions were interrupted by a static blur across his mind. Luke winced in pain and collapsed to the floor. Two padawans witnessed his breakdown in the grand foyer. The two human padawans struggled to carry Luke's frame to his feet, but Luke was quickly capable of regaining his composure. He assured the students that he was fine, and brushed off the dust from his robes. Once again, his mind was duped by the Ancient Sith he felt. The Force will must be done.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cold stone pricked at Tera's shapely formed thighs as she seated upon the eerily marked floor of the ancient temple facing in the easterly direction toward the walkway that led from the opening. Mandin seated to her left and Cresta to her right with Hol'en directly in front of her. Each of them sat at a side of the massive carving on the floor that outlined the planetary alignment of the ancient star system. The ancient tome was propped upon Tera's thighs as she positioned herself comfortably. The women's form fitting clothes offered little protection against the harsh elements creeping through the darkened hallways.

The primeval volume communicated to Tera through the Force, its pages flipping errantly as the women chanted in unison with Tera in a forgotten tongue. Each staccato-emphasized syllable provoked uneasiness upon Hol'en's soul as she doubted Tera's command. It was too late, now. She had forsaken her past when she joined Tera, and killed her soul when she entered the valley. There was no turning back. Tera didn't concern herself with menial feelings from her underlings; her goal was nigh.

Outside upon the snows, elongated shadows slithered their ways across the pyramid city toward the central temple. Chatters of whispers eschewed their very movements as a multitude of such beings scurried upon the snowy beds and across each building. Shadow beings began to finger across the violet temple, ascending the staircase into the awaiting opening of the structure. More shadows filtered inside, their whispers growing louder as the chanting of the women climbed into a crescendo of intensity.

Intense winds gusted through the primeval antechamber flicking the humans' hairs in wild patterns. Their chanting increased as the book violently paged through its chapters, lifting above Tera's head, spinning uncontrollably on the x-axis. Tera enhanced each consonant with a guttural intensity as the spell continued. The ancient volume imbued her with the knowledge moments before, calling her the proper preparations prior to this chant. The flimsy outfits flittered in the speeding winds generated from the Force within. The shadow beings hovered nearby reaching into the ceiling and through the floor and walls.

High above the temple, creeping through the murky sulfur clouds drew a lone beam of light shining from the precipice of the ancient pyramid. The intense white burned through the miasma as a lightsaber cuts through durasteel leaving a white-hot radiance glowing upon the circumference of the burned overcast. The beam continued into the upper atmosphere, reaching beyond the quiet dwarf star into the event horizon of the Galactic Center a few hundred million kilometers away.

Inside the central temple, the beam pushed through the ceiling and into the carved markings upon the floor in front of the girls heating the ancient volume with an intense beam of Force energies. A secondary beam pushed within from the primary opening of the pyramid impacting Tera upon her pineal lobe. Her shapely body reacted appropriately as every muscle tensed into mortis. The shadow figures journeyed their way across the central floor, each one of them engaging one of the women seated in cross-legged positions upon the floor.

Hol'en didn't see it coming. Her head ached from the intense bludgeon that surprised her from behind. She turned around to see a burly human male standing before her. Food stains marked upon his soiled shirt and grease stains marked his pants. Curled body hair creeped through his sully shirt, his face was marked with old scars and unkempt facial hair. Through blurred vision, she saw the burly man grab for her lekku as he violently turned her around.

Punishment would come soon as his calloused hands ascended her thighs, creeping up her raven dress. With each inch the unwashed bumps on his hands progressed, a new tear trickled down her cheeks. Within moments she felt an intense pelvic thrust between her thighs. She cried out to the Ryl, but her calls went unanswered as even the Twi'lek gods shunned her. The surly hands covered her mouth so she couldn't scream, but instead of the working hands that she was used to abusing her, these hands were covered in an ebony casing of metal alloy covering the topside of the pale hands in a sadistic merging of flesh and steel. The metal armor ended in curved points as if talon claws for a wild beast.

Suddenly, the excruciating pain between her thighs ceased, only to be replaced by a more brutal pain inside her skull. She reached back and felt the cold liquid seeping from her lekku, only her lekku were missing, ripped violently from the base of her skull. Her mind raced as bundles of nerve endings whipped from where her headtails once existed.

Physically, her meditating body remained unharmed in the outside world, yet her form had been lifted from her seat rising in a rigid position with her arms in a crucifix position and her clothes stripped away to reveal her nubile naked form.

Cresta's face grimaced under questionable thoughts. A dark-haired male dressed in the regal uniforms of the Galactic Alliance Guard stood before her. A gruesome visage had been shown the lower jaw violently absent, tendons and muscle dangling in the bloody smear as the upper mandible formed with rotting, broken teeth. The soiled clothes were scarred with the crimson blood pumping from a stab wound in his chest and another upon his face between his eyes. The revenant form clasped his rotting hands in front of his skull, encasing the gaping wound at the bridge of his nose.

As he pulled his hands away, a sleek blade formed from the crevice. A curved hilt positioned within his hands with a lacerated blade. While the blade pulled away from the skull wound, the visage of Cresta's former lover morphed into an unknown visage; that of a dark-haired man whose locks draped across his shoulders, his pale face perfectly shaped into a square jaw-line and deep set eye sockets matching those of the ancient pictures adorning the walls of the ancient pyramid.

In a quickening strike, the ceremonial blade pierced through Cresta's gaping mouth, slicing her tongue in half along the vertical axis before piercing through the base of her skull line. Fragments of flesh and blood dripped from the lacerations behind her neck. Like Hol'en, her physical body was unharmed and joined the younger coven member in a crucified position floating above her seat in the nude.

Mandin met a similar fate. Her naked body lied comatose upon her silken sheets back in the apartment her and her mother shared on Coruscant. Crying in pain with each passing moment, her nose trickled with the bloody side effects of overdose. Her eyes had been set deep upon her blackened eye sockets, her face a grisly pale as her body reacted with the drugs in her system. She could not move her body in a rigid mortis.

She experienced every intense pain as the blurry countenance of her distrusting mother bludgeoned her shins with the strength of twenty gundarks. The beatings promoted to her thighs and then her stomach leaving her legs in a bloody mess of bone and meatbag. As beatings of her mother continued to pummel her stomach faster and more intense, a flood of crimson liquid exited from her birth canal betwixt her thighs with a gruesome, gushing noise.

A scarlet, gooey glob of dismembered parts formed a bloody soup between her thighs staining the whitened sheets. Amongst the leftover fetus, the head rolled into a position where she could see the face and with the vision her mind numbed into a dull pain. It was either the continued beatings by her mother, or it was the true form of the dead fetus that numbed her existence. The bloodied abortion formed the figurehead of the haunting visage that marred Cresta's vision complete with flowing dark locks and square-lined chin.

The head smiled with an evil grin that formed pearly white teeth marked with sharp canines that began to motion as if to gnaw at her flesh. Mandin's horrific vision ceased abruptly. Like the others before her, her naked body floated above her seated position expanded into a crucified form.

Tera did not encounter the visions of pain and suffering, yet her body floated above the others similarly stripped naked. All four girls were in a stasis form as the ritual intensified marked by four beams of light spilling from their pineal glands into the base of the light formation in the center of the group. Blood began to empty from the orifices of the four women starting and progressing to crying tears of blood from their eyes. Mucus-filled crimson blood spilled from their nostrils.

Every pore in their body slowly oozed blood at this stage of the ritual. As the rite continued, the crimson flowed more fluidly and violently finally culminating with the blood forming noodle strings out of their pores pumping continuously before the bodies of Mandin, Cresta and Hol'en atomized into oblivion in a flurry of crimson spray in near pause amongst the whitened Force energies.

The infirmary at the Jedi Academy was silent on this moment. An Ossusian medical technician overlooked the body of Zayne Dax whose comatose form remained in stasis as it had the past ten years. The male technician glanced at the monitoring equipment in the housing room as a female technician keyed in the proper code to administer the daily regimen of nutrients and bacta. A silent release of liquids was marked by the usual strain of replaced air pressure in the infirmary ward as Zayne lied on his gurney ready for the daily nutrients.

Inside his mind raced with thoughts of the past, his days in the Yuuzhan Vong war and his days of youth. Zayne was quiet, unusually quiet. His monitors registered normal reads with his heartbeat and other vitals. For the first time in his eternity, Zayne was allowed his own will. He twitched a finger of his own thoughts. His eyes raced inside his eyelids of his own accord. From the outside of his mind, the technicians were astonished. Zayne seemed awake after all this time.

Regrettably, Zayne would not be allowed the liberty of freedom. His mind had soon been overtaken by the clouds of dark side obscurity that marred his existence for the past decade. The monitoring systems activated with a loud alarm as his body convulsed uncontrollably. The pair of Ossus technicians looked into the viewport before calling to Master K'Kruhk over the intercom.

Zayne's body trembled faster, each convulsing seizure caused blood to empty from his eyes and nose. His face glazed into a pale visage as he shook ever violently with each passing second. K'Kruhk didn't make it in time as Zayne's body arced; restrained by the clasps at his wrists and ankles. His mouth gaped open and his stomach expanded as if gasses billowed inside. In an instant, his body vaporized into the fabric of atoms and molecules.

The Force wave rippled across the galaxy emanating from the Galactic Center, expanding with the speed of thought across the far reaches, deep into Chiss Space and the Unknown Regions. Across the galaxy, thousands of Jedi felt the effects of the massive Force impulse that rocked the very fabric of space and time. Those fully trained in the Force, Luke and other Masters felt a sudden pain as the cries of thousands of dead Jedi spirits pummeled loudly inside their skulls causing them to pause and collapse where they stood or sat. As the intense beacon pulsated throughout the galaxy, the same cries from the slain screamed like banshees wailing for the deceased.

Amidst the chaos, Artoo-Detoo ceased to function while situated in Luke's study hall, his servo motors shutting down and his central core went offline. Protocol droids across the galaxy slumped over to signify their sleep states. Nearly every automaton stopped serving their masters or their objectives. Factories shut down, and automated navigation systems posed a danger to pilots attempting to land at space stations as the droids that operated them turned off resulting in many near misses and collisions as pilots had to quickly rely on their own visual instincts.

Lesser trained Jedi went mad. Throughout the Ossus Academy and other Jedi institutions, Padawans screamed in agonizing torture. Horrific visions of the grotesquely slain penetrated their skulls, while on the outside many padawans started to smash their skulls against walls causing them to turn into vegetables or plunging themselves over the sides of walls and cliffs to stave off the pain in the quickness of death. Inside the Ossus Academy training facility, Geren and Jaron withstood the brunt of the assault and attempted to use the Force to fight it off.

Geren clasped Jaron with his right hand around her neck as he embraced her in a friendly hug. The Zabrakian female performed likewise to her male counterpart before their lightsabers formed a green and blue criss-cross through their abdomens, both of them sulked to the ground simultaneously in mutual death. Their robes clumped into a mass of fabric as their physical bodies no longer existed, their souls forever lost in the abyss of darkness that swept across the galaxy.

The Force repulse lasted only a few minutes, but claimed the lives of many lesser trained Jedi across the galaxy. The screams of thousands of fallen Jedi called upon Luke; long deceased Masters that Luke never knew. Qui-Gon Jinn, Mace Windu, Kit Fisto, Nomi Sunrider, Bastila Shan; all of them crying out to Luke in throes of pain and death. Of the many Jedi who called his name, one stood out louder than the others. An ancient Jedi, who once fell to the Sith only to be redeemed by his lover, Bastila Shan.

Luke knew of this ancient Jedi who went by the Sith name Darth Revan. Once redeemed, Revan never took his born name back as most redeemed Sith decide to do since he did not last in the Jedi Order much longer after defeating his former apprentice and destroying the Star Forge. This much Luke learned of the Jedi History. Not too long after his redemption, Revan left the galaxy to hunt down an ancient Sith threat that he once learned of during his time as a Sith Lord.

"Skywalker," Revan called, "Skywalker!"

The voice reverberated through Luke's ears, but he could not answer even with the Force.

"Skywalker, wake up!" Revan appeared to Luke's vision as a fair-haired human Jedi whose countenance resembled a straightened face with striking blue eyes.

Luke flicked his eyes open and stared into his eyelids. The blank stare of white pupils was soon taken over by visible irises as a sign of regained consciousness. Luke brushed upon his nostrils to wipe away the heavy blood flow that spilled into his lips and chin. Luke lied motionless on his backside upon the paristeel floor in his chambers; blood slowly trickled through his capillaries to regain feeling into his extremities.

He strained his neck to look toward Artoo standing on his bipedal legs on the opposite side of the chambers behind him. He struggled to gain footing, coupled with natural body age and the sudden rush of Force intensities that befell him. He heard the ancient voice call again.

"Skywalker, can you hear me?" Revan requested.

"I hear you, ancient Jedi, but I do not understand."

"Skywalker, my name is Revan. I am here to help you."

"Help me?" Luke wondered. He knew that the ancient Sith was powerful, and speculated if Revan could do much from the netherworld.

Luke stumbled to his desk and used it as a crutch as he slowly sulked to his chair.

"I must find the other Jedi," Luke reached for a comm-link in his robes, "K'Kruhk, can you read me?"

Static dispersed on the comm as the Whiphid hesitantly answered, "I'm here Master. Something tells me there was a great disturbance in the Force."

"You can say that again. Were we the only ones who felt it?"

"Sorry Master. Geren and Jaron are gone, only robes and lightsaber hilts remain. Many Padawans are dead, Master, or so the Ossusians tell me. Do we know if this thing was localized or worse?"

"I don't know. Have you heard from Leia, or Ben?" Luke's comm turned to static as Revan spoke.

"They are fine," Revan assured, this time appearing as a corporeal spirit in front of Luke; Artoo remained silent.

"Revan, you've been dead for thousands of years and never knew me. How is it that I can see your spirit?"

"This 'great disturbance' shook the Netherworld, an ancient evil that has caused a disruption in the flow of the Force." Revan spoke from the ethereal plane, his Jedi robes flowing upon his form encased in a blue glow.

"Did this Sith cause the Force disturbance?"

"I'm afraid so. I must provide you information that you may find hard to believe," Revan began.

"I'm afraid I may not have much of a choice," Luke continued, he fumbled into the plasteel seat in front of the study desk, his face appeared attentive in repose.

Revan continued, "This Ancient Sith pre-exists the dawn of galactic civilization. My birth name was Saran Verdui; I was the last of my clan. My family traces back thousands of generations past into time immemorial. Eons ago, my family originated on a planet deep in the galactic core long before space-faring civilizations arose. The progenitor of my family became a legend on our birth planet, conquering a vile being that threatened their civilization. Thousands of years later, this ancient evil returned to haunt my clan on this planet, Roth.

"His birth name was Tomen Kylaka and over the course of thousands of years, assumed the powers of the gods my progenitor worshipped becoming the figurehead of his people; the Sith'ari. As he ruled, those who opposed him were killed or enslaved. My family went into hiding, knowing the ancient vengeance that boiled within him. Believing his eternal adversaries to be gone, the Ancient Sith enforced his reign. At some point in time, this ancient one shed his mortal coil, to hibernate his spirit into eternal slumber. His people took to the stars, colonizing far off planets; their crafts propelled by their magic. My family cast off with them, finding refuge upon Corellia. This Ancient Sith waited for eons.

"When I turned to the dark side and learned of the Star Forge on Lehon, I discovered the ancient temple of the Rakata. It was here I learned the secrets of the Star Forge, but I also learned of an ancient manuscript of which the Rakata Elders beheld as a revered text. Their legends tell of an ancient star-race that came to Lehon and created the Rakata as slaves. Centuries later, the Rakata rebelled and formed their religions from that of their former conquerors. This book came from those star-men."

"Book? Star-men?" Luke pondered, "What was in this book?"

"Pure evil; the spirit of the dark side. For many months I studied this script, locking myself inside the keep the Rakata guarded. I would not even permit my apprentice, Darth Malak to disturb me. I learned of the darkest of secrets of alchemy and immortality, dark powers beyond those the current Force provided. I learned the secrets of creation. It was also from this book that the base Sith discipline of deception got the best of me. I drew upon its power to further my knowledge, and was deceived. I learned of an ancient Sith temple that pre-dated the Rakata. I knew I could build an army with the Star Forge, destroy the Republic then pursue this core of Sith knowledge.

"After I was redeemed, I turned that knowledge for the Order. What I once sought as knowledge, now existed as a threat in the galaxy and with the light side redeemed, I could destroy it rightfully. It was this knowledge that the deception existed. Instead of knowledge, I was tricked towards another Sith empire waiting in the wings in the Outer Rim. Instead of defeating them, I was enslaved and later murdered by their emperor. A Jedi Exile came after me three years later, and she sadly met the same fate."

"So this book, it gave you knowledge that it deemed you worthy to accept?"

"I was not worthy of the ancient Sith knowledge, and Tomen's spirit sensed my future as a redeemed Jedi and considered me a threat to be deceived into death."

"This book, can you describe it?" Luke sensed Revan's knowledge of this manuscript resembled the primordial volume Luke feared.

"The book was a physical reality, ancient and worn and bound in an indigenous parchment to Roth, this much I was told from its history. The ancient glyphs upon its face invoked a lost tongue, not even known to the Rakata. They claimed the book spoke to them, and instructed them to build the Star Forge. The hieroglyphs upon the book were straight-lined and angled. Various characters marked with dots and circles beside them. I could only guess this was the Sith'ari tongue."

Luke sighed, he knew the fate of the manuscript, "Revan, I know now who possesses that book."

"Luke," Revan continued, "the ancient book must be destroyed."

_Now his failure is complete. _Darker words were never spoken. Luke recalled the words of his father many years ago as they dueled in front of Emperor Palpatine on the Second Death Star. Darth Vader spoke of Luke's mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but in this trying time Luke could hear the words directed at him. A deep sense of regret encircled his thoughts. His isolation after the Second Galactic Civil War led to dark changes within the Jedi Order. He harkened to a time of innocence when the Jedi Order was beginning to peak under his guidance until the invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong.

It was then that the teachings of his masters failed him. He left students to die, and he left one to fall to eternal darkness; tainted forever by the corruption of pure hatred. Tera once lived as an innocent child, stubborn to learn the Force. During the day he taught her the ways of the Force; lightsaber tactics, meditation and patience. At night, her skills advanced far beyond those Luke sensed she was ready for and it was at this time that Luke's connection to her severed mysteriously. Her thoughts were clouded; he could not see through them but sensed a destiny on a different path than his. It was not his place to foment the destinies of his pupils, this much he learned from Yoda, but the failure to intervene led to this moment before him.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A hulking mound of raven robes towered more than two meters upon the stone floors of the main temple chambers with its back turned against the temple entrance. Each contraction of lungs burdened the heavy shoulders in a rhythmic manner through the bulky robes. A dark cowl covered the head of the massive figure; cold breaths billowed from the front of the hood with each motion of the mammoth shoulders. The robes peeled away as the figure raised its arms revealing a foreboding set of armor plating covering the wrists and forearms adorned with a ceremonial gauntlet carved with the ancient glyphs similar to those that lined the walls of the ancient temple.

Razor sharp raven claws armored the foreboding being's fingers and thumbs along the knuckles ending a few inches past the edge of his extremities. The digits curled and remained outstretched, causing the claws to articulate with a metallic clank as the figure cocked his head to face skyward releasing a deafening roar that rocked the primeval structure. Released of imprisonment, freed after thousands of years bound to the ethereal planes forever channeled by Sith students over the course of many eons; Tomen Kylaka reborn.

Tomen Kylaka was the living embodiment of the dark side, he was the will of the dark side made manifest. In many respects, he could be seen as a god. He grasped the edges of his cowl to pull it behind his lengthy raven mane that adorned upon his armored shoulders beneath his robes. His forehead curved proportionately into his hair follicles atop his scalp. His deep set eyes were lined with shadow reflecting the burning wells of hatred within as he gazed upon the fresh, naked female that lied in the fetal position in front of the stone dais.

Legend has it that Tomen was born of a mortal woman's womb, flimsy and weak as a newborn was. From birth, his soul belonged forever to the eternally dark forces his people worshipped. The dark horned god his culture dedicated their temples to was said to have consummated with his mother in a sacred ritual invoked by his maternal grandfather, a high priest of the Sith'ari culture. To fulfill his legacy, he murdered his own grandfather at the age of thirteen. For decades, he ruled over his people conquering most of Roth at the time of primeval technology. After twice falling at the hands of his mortal enemies, he returned again to master his own god and destroy him; absorbing the strengths of the darkness. For thousands of years, he ruled strong until shedding his mortal flesh to become a living god.

It was with this potency, that his people dedicated this temple to him before abandoning Roth. In the absence of life, Tomen's omniscience turned Roth into a chaotic graveyard and shrunk its lone sun into an icy dwarf. As he lay in hibernation, he commanded the carnal forces of his people; granting them as a god would answer prayers. All dark-side souls came back to him, back home to Roth to forever suffer their fates.

Tomen moved his arms to his sides as his mass strode toward the ailing female form whose darkened hair and shapely backside faced him. Each step pounded into the stone pavement with the weight of a hundred Mandalorian war basilisks causing the armor to produce an ominous clank. He crouched to the female, his shin guards pointing through the heavy robes as he squatted using the weight of his thighs.

He coursed the steel fingers of his right hand across the spinal backside of the female form, the spiked claws tracing a small mark across her gracious curves. Tera remained breathing, albeit small rhythms in her stasis. He moved his hands across her, palm down forming along her body down her hip and waist across her thighs. Tomen's bait still survived to fulfill his new purpose. He showed a toothy smile lined in crimson lips.

"Mom? Dad?" Tera whimpered as her body began to shiver while she regained consciousness.

Tomen released a short bass groan emphasized through his deep breathing.

"No. Master," Tomen reprimanded with a contrabass monotone, continuing a pearly grin creased with fanged canines through his scarlet lips.

Tomen tightly gripped his steel-lined hands around Tera's frail right wrist which burned into her pale skin. He twisted her body to reveal himself to her visage as she slowly opened her eyes regaining consciousness. The foreboding presence blurred into focus as she remained bound to the creature's grip unable to use her right hand to brush the blur out of her oculars. As the vision came into focus, the raven locks formed upon the tormentor's face and shoulders like a bushel of fine ropes sourced from his scalp.

She knew she must escape, but the rigid grasp prevented her from moving, each violent squirm she attempted caused the grip to constrict further. Tera recognized the one who imposed before her, the Ancient One whom she had pursued for many years. The Ancient Sith who intruded upon her dreams as a youth in the Jedi Praxeum, the same ancient spirit who taunted her to possess the ancient tome that became his vessel into the mortal world. She gazed upon Tomen Kylaka, the one she devoutly served.

Tomen remained unfazed as she relaxed her nerves allowing his grip to violently raise her above the floor as he rose. The motion caused her legs to go limp as a female feline would harvest her young in her mouth. She grimaced with the intense pain that befell her wrists as he lifted her above the ground staring face to face with his vessel.

"I have summoned you here for a purpose," Tomen's bass voice commanded; his voice rumbling through Tera's beating heart.

The command coursed through her body as a billion amps of electricity. Tera's body remained limp, realizing any struggles would bring further pain. Glancing downward she noticed her raven dress and boots had been shed, nowhere to be found upon the floor. As well, she noticed her friends were missing, vanished as if they never existed. Only she remained, no evidence that she too existed. She felt Zayne's absence, no longer within the star system; a life of abandonment beginning with her parents, Luke and Zayne. In solace, she turned to the dark side and to the once invisible master who stood before her, hoisting her above the floor.

Tomen admired her form with a sensual lust. Tera's body radiated with the stench of pheromones. This pleased her master. He lowered her to her feet as they touched the cold stone. Her nude form enticed him with a raw sense of carnal urgency.

Tera's vanity took hold of her as she realized the powers she had unleashed. Mandin, Cresta and Hol'en vanished and the ancient powers of the dark side were now hers to command. She mustered the courage to finish the conversation, her overconfidence billowed.

"I came here for my purpose. I came here of my will! Now it is my turn to harness your powers for my desires. I will command the dark side, I will command you to bend to my will and I will conquer Luke!"

Tomen clinched his right fist around her jaw-line at the base of her neck, the tips of his claws pinching into the flesh of her neck and in one swift motion, pinned her body against the throne behind her. The vigor of his muscles drove her body against the heavy, frosty, golden seat, his grip still clasped around her neck. Tera's spine creaked from impact of the force of the collision. Tomen's robes flew open in the same motion and swiftly repositioned from the inertial forces that heaved her into the chair, draping into a position that encased his ancient armor once again.

Tomen's face shone a disgruntled smirk, his countenance fired from the anger built within. Tera grasped the icy metal armor guarding Tomen's forearm, her weak form posed little threat to the ancient warrior.

"I will break you of your impudence whore!" Tomen growled in a deep bass. Tera's face grew into a slight tint of blue as his grip restricted her aorta and trachea.

"Scores have served me and all have disappointed. None have departed from their mortal coils by my doing. Will I make you the first?"

Tera squirmed in fear to form an answer from her shaking head. Her legs kicking and struggling to keep her body erect upon the throne, slipping from the slick surface as her bottom cushioned each failed attempt. Tomen relaxed his grip and turned his back to her as Tera coughed to regain oxygen. Salty tears bubbled from her eyes from the strong grip as she expelled minor contents from her stomach onto the stone floor in front of the dais.

Tomen crossed his arms across his raven robes exposing the mammoth armor coverings beneath.

"I called you as a youth and built you. You will serve as bait for Skywalker. Serve me as I command and your desires will fulfill."

"Why me? Why did you choose me? Why did I need to bring three others?" Tera demanded, still gaining breath.

"Three were my heart, mind and soul, the fourth is my strength, and the fifth is my flesh."

"But I brought four, myself included!" Tera reminded in anger.

"Five!" Tomen corrected, his commanding voice boomed through her chest.

"Zayne? He was not an adept, he served no purpose."

"He served MY purpose! Zayne was my herald, an unwilling servant whose mind I destroyed. His death served my omnipotence," Tomen paused as if to calm himself, "I feel Babalon within you. Her flesh is your flesh, and when Skywalker serves his purpose, so shall you."

"I saw Babalon, back at the gates." Tera remembered.

"She is the Guardian of the Abyss."

"Master, did you," Tera stuttered, "love her?"

Tomen ignored her question, raised his right arm and pointed skyward with his index finger, "Once I am made whole, Skywalker will die. That is your desire?"

Tera grinned at the promise of killing Skywalker on her own. Combined with his strength, she was unmatched and could overtake him for betraying her. Once she consumed Skywalker, she could overcome this ancient evil and become limitless.

"I will do as you desire, Master," Tera's warm flesh slid from the throne, bowing on one knee in reverence. He turned around boding his appearance in front of her. She coiled in frightful desire as she stood on her feet in anticipation of his next move. He gripped her fluttered raven locks from the back of her head pulling her neck back to gaze toward his towering figure. Tomen showed no emotion as his next move forced her against the throne in a prone position as she propped up her left knee upon the chair. _Her flesh is your flesh._ The thoughts raced through her mind as he forced his carnality upon her, consummating their unholy matrimony. For her lust, she suffered internally. Tomen forced himself upon her mentally; violating her mind with the moans of ethereal ecstasy. He took no physical form in this incomplete state yet enforced his will upon her soul. Her mind melted with the metaphysical pains of possession. Tomen took her as his to fulfill the supernatural carnality of an orgiastic rite.

Hours must have passed for Tera. Her mind raced in perceived perceptions, fading from thoughts of her master to experiences of her previous life. She understood she had given that up the moment she dedicated herself to that dark book. Many questions fomented in her brain, should she ask them to her master she wondered, or would he snuff her out instantly? Tera reminisced to her days in Mos Espa; the angel-like adoration of her mother hurriedly rushing her underneath her bed as her father entered into their small hovel.

That fateful day played out in her mind repeatedly in moments she found solace. She never told the truth about that day and fabricated the story of a vengeful bounty hunter taking vengeance for her father's gambling habits on her parents. The Force called that day back to her, the living embodiment that ravaged her only a few hours before. No, this day was different. This was not how she physically remembered it.

The handsome dark-haired man who had been her father forced his way into the small bedroom she used in their humble home. She recalled her slender, gracious mother crying with her hands burying her face seated upon the simple bed that Tera used. Tera stood on the opposite wall, fashioned in the raven dress she previously wore. The simple blaster bolt cut through her mother's forehead evacuating at an angle from the base of her neck before evaporating into an acrid smoke hole through the bed.

Her mother slumped over to her left, an eternal tear welling in her eyes as her sobbing silenced. Her father eyed his deceased wife before shoving the pistol between his mandibles and firing a single shot shattering his skull with the scarred odor of cauterized flesh. His bulking form slumped over the corpse of Tera's mother. Her adult form attempted to cry, but could not build up the emotions.

Standing in the place of her father, a dark cloud billowed from the floor, forming into the silhouette of a towering humanoid male. The smoke peeled away, revealing a familiar guise in the shape of her master starting at the head and slowly dissipating across his broad shoulders and muscular figure. Tomen's vision crouched, eloquently lifting the bed away from the floor yet paying no respect to the deceased. The cadavers tumbled limply toward the incline. The foreboding master extended his left hand toward the small child, offering a falsely loving appearance to coax the little girl out of hiding. With a somber acceptance, Tera's younger self accepted the invitation.

Tera couldn't stop the young child, her fate was sealed. What is death, she wondered. Was this hell? Tera survived years of neglect and starvation, empowered by her own will or was it the will of the dark side? A few years after the fateful day, she encountered a Jedi. Her master smiled with glee for the Force chanced their encounter. Tomen kept her alive as a youth and he kept her alive on Roth. From birth, he had his eyes on her and as she matured into an adult the ancient incarnation of the priestess manifested further.

Her conscious advanced in her stupor. Tera's body tingled with an intensely painful numbing sensation yet her nerves triggered the feeling of cold rock beneath her skin. Her consciousness pushed her to open her eyes to defeat the agony her body forced upon her. This was not an ordinary ache. Tera experienced the sensation throughout her body, inside and out. She learned to ignore pain, for pain brought weakness and the feeble skilled were expelled by the Sith.

Tera screamed powerfully as a thousand widows as her extremities regained blood flow. Her pains echoed across the ancient temple in rippling reverberations. She struggled to lift herself from the stone beneath her while her clouded vision slowly focused amidst the dark hallway. If she could only move from her position as an unseen force compelled her to the floor.

A cold metallic boot wedged into her ribs stifling her movement with an agony she'd never suffered.

"Know your place, infidel," cited a harsh, growling voice. A bruise began to coalesce upon Tera's side as the boot wedged into her skin. Tera's vision cleared as she noticed she had been resting on her side upon the foot of the golden throne flanked by two strange forms that resembled canine beasts. Tomen seated upon his throne, his right boot propped upon her ribs as he leaned upon his thigh to gaze at her pale face. Her body had been facing eastward, her back towards the golden throne. Tera remained as nude as she was found.

"Master," Tera proclaimed. Tomen's shoe wedged deeper, she released a whimpering moan with the recent torture that silenced her. Tomen relaxed his hold to allow her to breathe yet remained his foot upon her ribs.

"Why master? Don't I remind you of her?" Tera whimpered.

"Babalon never learned her position. I never proposed power, but she yearned to reap it from me. Her punishment is eternal subservience and slavery. Know your rank and serve me, and you may earn your place."

"What do you want from me? Why did you choose me?"

"Eliminate Skywalker and you shall have the gift of everlasting life, which I can provide you."

Tomen released his hold, allowing her to stumble to her feet. Still naked, the cold airs blowing from outside breezed across her bare skin. The icy winds scarred her skin with a reddening complexion. Her master was flanked by two guardians whom she had not recognized. Their eyes glowed with a volcanic ember as their leathery hide was as pitch as her master's robes. Tusks protruded from their bottom lips reaching halfway up their faces flanking their elongated snouts. Tomen stroked behind the floppy ears of the one to his right that seemed to coddle the fearsome beast into an adoring lull.

"Send me to Skywalker, and I will do your bidding."

At her notion, the guarding beasts growled with a fury, sensing their master's thoughts.

"Your propensity for reprisal is estimable, yet will conduct to your ruination. Your feeble skills are no match for Skywalker's off-Roth. Patience, Skywalker will arrive here. Then, you can execute him."

Tera formed a wide grin. Revenge would finally be hers, but her thoughts needed to be hidden from her Master. There was no way around it, Tomen could read her thoughts and at the slightest conception of deceit, he could surely dispose of her. She reminded him of Babalon, but it wasn't how she felt. Tomen arose from his throne as she motioned backward, her heels stumbling across the cold floor. Prolonged nakedness and she could feel frostbite forming upon her extremities.

Tomen began to stride behind her, his ancient plated boots banged upon the ancient stone echoing across the antechambers. His dark robes concealed much of his towering form as Tera marveled at his perfection. She stifled a smirk, but had many questions to ask.

"Master, if I may ask," Tera began, her gut forming a lump in her throat as she formulated what to say. Every billions upon billions of neurons fired simultaneously as she attempted to consider her next statements carefully. Tomen released his left hand from his cross-armed position and motioned for her to continue with his armored fingers.

"I can feel your questions, child," Tomen condescended, displaying a vile grin, "Roth exists beyond space and time at the very apex of Galactic Center. For every day that has passed on Roth, a Standard Galactic Year has transpired. It is here that existence borne from the Dark Abyss."

Tomen waved his arms toward the floor, pointing towards the murals above and below, "My people the Sith'ari held faith that all life came forth from the dark void and that in hatred it spit out the gods leaving only the Ancient Dark where the dead are tormented. The gods of light had ruled over the orbiting planets, which the commoners erected temples in their honor here on Roth. I had been conceived from a mortal female in dark rites that fathered me. Performing dark arts, I consumed the powers of our gods and for centuries, I ruled as a God-King, manifested of the powers of the Ancient Abyss. I created the _Liber'um Ab' Ysikar, _a handbook to dark side rituals and through ancient alchemies, my soul resided within after I shed my flesh. After my 'death', my people, the Sith'ari fled Roth and in my omnipotence I rendered this planet sterile and uninhabitable save only the beasts that protect it. My people took their scrolls and their holy book with them, fleeing into space with magical crafts. With my soul within the holy script, I endowed erudition to those I observed laudable.

"Through my omnipotence and omniscience, Roth exists on its own continuum and only through the true magicks, or as you say, the Force, can it be found. Thus, the Sith'ari could never come home. They spread their seed throughout the galaxy, preaching 'Bogan' as they called it, finally settling on many planets and creating slave races in the vein of their ancient culture to be obedient and subservient. Oh, but they tried to be as their god. The imprudent magicians provided these bastardizations with sentience, thus sealing their fate as fools. My dark arts forever remained hidden in a temple the ancient Rakata built on their home planet as a result of my progenies' misguidance.

"It was here, that a Sith practitioner whom your histories dubbed, Darth Revan, discovered them. Oh, he showed promise, but I foresaw his future as a redeemed Jedi and forecast him to death. I sensed his seed, the last of my mortal enemy. He was damned by my deception.

"My scroll followed through many hands over the eons, finally falling into my most promising pupil whom you recalled as Darth Sidious. Through my book, he learned true doctrine. He was destined to consume the galaxy for the ancient gods, but alas he failed and his soul remains forever bound to suffer on the cross outside the temple.

"Death comes to those who fail me, and those who falter the worse suffer excruciating damnation. Many have come to Roth haphazardly, or through destiny of the Force. Those whose shortcomings I sense, die." Tomen's voice began to rise into a slow crescendo, maintaining the bass tonality.

"Up there, in orbit lies the resting place of desperate souls who did not heed the warnings of the Force; lost souls who wandered upon this ancient world never to return to the galactic proper. It is here that all dark souls return to the primordial," Tomen reached both of his arms toward the skies, his metallic fingers outstretched to encompass the heavens, "This is Chaos and I am its Master!" Tomen's voice rocketed through the antechambers with the force of a thousand hyper novae.

Tomen's armored fingers grasped upon the middle seam of his woolen robes as he skirted them apart from his chest. It was here that Tera experienced true death for the sudden sight she beheld caused her heart and mind to sink with the suffering of eternal damnation. In place of plated armor as she had assumed, the chest cavity of Tomen had revealed to be the disembodied spirits of ancient dead. The wails of pain burned inside her ears, her eyes sunk deep within her sockets in fear. She wanted to look away, but the Force compelled her to gaze upon the damned.

The damned crawled and scraped within Tomen's torso like pests clawing for food. The forms of faces were disfigured with an eternity of guilt marked with gouged eyes and torn ears. Many of those lost had their mouths sealed shut with fleshy outgrowths. The souls counted into legends. Tera faltered on her feet as her knees weakened from the cries of those before her. Tears began to stream upon her cheeks like salty rivers. Tomen sealed his robes from the pupil's eyes and knew her suffering before him. He counted on the feeble skills of his apprentice unmatched against Luke. Once Luke destroyed her, his form would be complete.

In his current form, he was confined to the dark heart of Roth. All that was needed was the fifth life and his powers would unleash upon the galaxy. Tera only acted as a beacon, a drone to attract Skywalker to his home. Tomen would kill Skywalker in her place, eliminating his only threat to his existence. Once removed, Tomen's goal to return all life and the Force to the Galactic Womb would be unopposed.

Tera sulked to her knees, her cries of lament tantalized Tomen to form a crimson smirk between his cheeks. Internally, he focused upon Ossus and Luke Skywalker with his omnipotent wisdom. How Luke feebly focused his mind on his task ahead. Tomen tuned into Luke's thoughts as they waned to his twin sister and adult son. Luke remembered the loss of his wife, Mara. Tomen beamed with the visions Luke felt from her death.

As Tomen continued his focus, he suddenly grimaced as the pains from thousands of eons pummeled upon his ancient soul. As he returned into existence, the release through the Force of many dead Jedi from the netherworlds did not faze him for each one carried a Force-signature that provided no concern. At this moment, pains he had not felt since he was a mortal agonized him as if the piercing blade of his mortal enemy impaled his icy heart. One signature alerted him to an inevitable fate.

"No, it can't be," Tomen muttered, inaudible to Tera, "A Verdui still lives."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A few weeks had passed on Ossus since the massive Jedi chaos spread throughout the galaxy. Luke Skywalker prepared himself, mentally and physically for a journey that marked a turning point in his life. He donned the orange flight suit over his plain Jedi robes and fastening each seam with the muscle memory that had lasted more than fifty years. Flying through space had become enough of a routine for him that he could wield the Force as skillfully as he could command a spacecraft. At times the profanely went hand in hand.

Artoo whistled softly at his side, the shutdown a few weeks ago had barely phased the automaton. Luke performed many diagnostic checks on the little droid to verify his functionality. Artoo passed every check and every diagnostic twice, thrice and quadruple checked. The epic disturbance through the Force turned every droid off-line. Luke and his Jedi on Ossus had heard of a few droids power cut permanently, others went rogue on their masters only to have to be shut down by blaster fire. Despite his loyalty, Luke urged his droid that he could not accompany him, and must remain on Ossus until he returned. He feared that if Artoo were to journey with him, he would lose his service forever.

During the aftermath of the disturbance, Han Solo had reassured his brother-in-law that his sister was fine. The surge forced her to rest for a few days a result of her age, but shortly returned to daily activities. Like his father, Ben Skywalker barely noticed the conundrum and had questioned his father days later. Luke reminded him that his mission was well delayed, and would require restored vigor to prevent any further disturbances. Luke worried more so about his grandson; the future of the Skywalker clan. Ben assured his father the child was fine, his Force abilities were not as tuned as the elder Skywalkers in his toddler stage.

All was right with the galaxy, Luke felt. Despite the death of thousands of padawans throughout the galaxy, the Jedi Order lived on. K'Kruhk updated Master Luke on the remaining Jedi; thirty padawans and ten knights and the two masters remained on Ossus. Enough, Luke comforted himself, for the Academy to continue. If this ancient Sith wished for the Jedi to be endangered again, this wasn't the method that would bring that conclusion.

Luke gazed across the flight deck in reaffirming faith. Ossus technicians prepared his StealthX for flight as Artoo rolled along beside him. K'Kruhk's bulky frame guided along the flight deck with Luke as the pair discussed important matters of the Jedi Order.

"I have called Ben and his family to Ossus. As long as they are on Coruscant during my leave, they are in danger."

"You are doing the right thing, Master." The Whiphid Jedi assured.

"The Force is strong on Ossus. So long as I can maintain focus on a single location, the taint of the dark side can not harm them here."

Upon Luke's words, the faint silhouette of a solitary transport pushed through the horizon. The transport increased in size as the massive vessel approached the flight deck. Burly in size, the Jedi transport should not have been capable of flight. Luke commissioned these ships for large, off-world deployments and covert transport in the days following his previous convocation. The bulk freighters were second hand scrap acquired from various junk dealers and resellers across the galaxy utilizing his brother in law's black market connections.

The Jedi designed the ships to be untraceable, stripping them of any communications and navcomputers, relying solely on the Force to traverse through hyperspace. In many retrospects, they were an ancient idea which harkened back to Luke's philosophies to return to the ancient ways. As the bulk freighter glided to landing, the flight deck rocketed with the intense weight of the titanic ship. Steam rolled from the egress hatch as the door opened with a loud hiss, the faint silhouette of a tall man stood stern amidst the rolling hydraulic vapors as he began his exit from the vessel.

Dressed in the common orange flight suit, Luke approached the man that exited the ship and greeted his son.

"Greetings father," Ben began as he gave his father a firm hug, "Leaving so soon?" He joked.

"I see your mother's humor still remains."

Luke patted his son on his broad shoulders. Winds swept across the flight deck that jut across the vast valley behind the Jedi Temple stirring Luke's salty hair as he hurried across the flight deck toward the StealthX spacecraft awaiting his departure. Artoo whistled in anticipation for further spaceflight. Luke turned around and pointed at his droid and motioned him to stop.

"Sorry Artoo. I need you to stay here. Ben and K'Kruhk will keep you company."

Artoo beeped in response.

"Father will be in good hands," Ben assured the droid.

Luke continued toward his StealthX and placed a bare hand on the yellow ladder leading to the cockpit entry. Ossusian flight technicians concluded the systems checks and diagnostics clearing Luke's spacecraft for flight. A senior technician provided Luke with his helmet and flight gloves as he swiftly placed the gloves within his headgear. Luke gazed toward his son and his droid, his thoughts drifting to wonder.

The apparition of Revan appeared at the base of the flight ladder behind Luke as he progressed into the cockpit. He stopped, placing a single foot inside the cockpit, straddling the edge of the entry as he carried a conversation with the ancient spirit. Azure auras encapsulated the flowing robes fitted upon the spirit of the slain Jedi. Neither Ben nor K'Kruhk could see the ghost, but Luke's focus change alerted Ben to possible trouble.

"Father." Ben wondered.

"Patience, Ben," K'Kruhk placed a comforting hand upon Ben's shoulder, "Master Luke has communed with an ancient Jedi since the great disturbance. It is likely the appearance has manifested again."

"Who is this Jedi?"

"Revan," K'Kruhk educated.

"Revan," Ben responded, "but why him?" As Ben's statement left his lips, Luke carried on the conversation with the ancient Jedi. Neither Ben nor K'Kruhk could hear his father's conversation as the voices were distant across the flight deck muffled with the clanks and clatters of the flight technicians that toiled to repair craft and other duties. Ben sensed his father's natural calm as the conversation ended allowing Luke to seat within the spacecraft donning his helmet to cover his salty-colored hair. He gloved his hands, securing them inside the flight suit as he motioned to the technicians an all clear sign.

Technicians scrambled to remove the entry ladder and remove hoses and other equipment as the StealthX's engines whined in compliance with Luke's instrumentational commands. The cockpit window lowered itself to seal the aging Jedi within its confines. Artoo chirped in anticipation. Normally the spunky droid accompanied his master, but Luke had made it clear that the droid was not to join him. Artoo did not know nor did he seem to understand as his programming was simple binary, on or off. It was not his capacity to relate to human needs and requirements, that was the function of his droid companion, See-Threepio.

Luke's spacecraft experienced thrust necessary to begin its ascent into atmosphere. The flight platform rocketed from the impetus of the craft. Ben and K'Kruhk covered their eyes from the blinding suns as the Jedi pair followed Luke's spacecraft exit the Academy and into the heavens. The faint speckle of the StealthX faded further into orbit.

Tera only needed to wait patiently for the moment her prey would arrive. In the meantime, a disturbance within her master alerted her to a possible weakness. In all respects, Tomen was the ancient god of the Sith, the god that all Sith cursed to. The truth that Tera learned had been that this ancient "god" was at one point a mortal of flesh and blood like she. Tomen mastered the arts of his ancient bloodline and at no point a challenger arose.

Her thoughts were her curse. Since his resurrection, Tomen guarded his ancient volume with his death hounds. As he watched his student, he stroked his metallic fingers across the curvatures of the glyphs etched upon the cover as it rested upon the right armrest. The snarling beasts intimidated Tera's motives, sensing her every motion and thoughts yet never enforcing their master's will. Tomen could have removed his servant from her thoughts alone; killing her instantly or letting her suffer in agonizing torment. He allowed his servant to think. Thoughts motivated her. They allowed her reprieve for her true destiny lied in wait.

Tomen witnessed as his naive student perfumed maneuvers across the antechambers. He rested his left arm upon his right which crossed across his chest, the right hand gripping the armored elbow joint. His left hand stroked upon his face, his hand spread across his chin. The sharp, metallic coverings that adorned his fingers left his skin intact as his thoughts motioned the armor across his countenance. A snide grin streaked between his left fingers as he fed on the suffering and pain that he pushed upon his student.

He felt her thoughts. Like all Sith before her, overconfidence would defeat her. In her feeble skills, she was no match for Luke Skywalker. Tomen counted on her defeat. Once deceased, her body would become his flesh completing his form into the physical world. In this state, his powers continued unmatched, yet confined to the orbital plane of his home. Once whole, the galaxy was his.

For each moment she trained seemed like an eternity. Tomen pushed her skills to its limits yet confining her abilities on purpose to show weakness to the superior Luke. In her moment of weakness, Tomen counted on Luke defeating her. She showed promise to him, much like Palpatine and other Sith before him. None, however, fulfilled the destiny of the true Sith.

Tera performed her training like a sultry dance entertaining a corpulent Hutt. Tomen provided her attire; the form garments of the warrior women of his ancient culture. A single sash crossed across her left shoulder covering the left breast. A single breastplate crossed across her buxom chest beneath the chain-armored sash modifying her cleavage and forcing her Sith markings on her chest outward. Each motion of her upper body caused the chinks in the plate to tingle and clang against the breastplate. Her right shoulder and navel remained exposed leading to a set of armor plating that adorned her hips as a skirt, her muscular thighs exposed below her skirt as her feet were covered with a pair of leathery sandals. Tera wielded an ancient blade blessed with her master's dark alchemies to withstand the onslaught of modern lightsabers.

To complete her ensemble, her raven locks had been held behind her forehead and fastened in a bun with a metallic fastener plated with ancient electrum atop her scalp. Part of the headdress dropped behind her head covering the vulnerable back of the neck, likewise plated in the ancient alloy. Tera glided through her regimen with enticing motions in an apparent attempt to seduce her master.

Tomen arose from his seat, stroking behind the ears of the hell hound on his right, grinning at it before slowly gliding toward his training apprentice. He trailed his right hand at his side, curling his fingers in a foreboding manner which motivated the metallic armor to curve to form with each motion. His left hand remained open at his ribs as he continued his journey toward the woman, his robes gliding across the floor covering the armor that clanked underneath. Tera stopped in her practice, her face flush with blood flow, palms and forehead sweaty from exertion.

Tera's heart weighed heavy as the menacing tower of a man approached her. His right hand stroked underneath her chin to lift her face to meet his causing a tingling sensation erupting through her spine. She gazed upon him with her green eyes, lust boiling between her thighs.

"Luke has left Ossus," Tomen's contrabass resonated throughout, "I have permitted to him the erudition to find Roth. Within hours, he will arrive."

"Master," Tera bowed, her left knee pressing hard upon the cold stones, "I am ready. Thy will be done."

Tomen answered her with a sly grin. He anticipated her failure which he kept hidden from her. It would be her destiny. For eons he was worshipped as a god, and for those same eons, he provided to those who followed the dark side will.

"Your preparation is sufficient. You shall pose an equal to Skywalker." Of course, he was lying to her, but Tomen hid his intention. Tera's passion was a gift of the dark side, yet she was unable to focus on her master's true desires. She arose to her feet as he flowed toward his awaiting throne flanked by his guard hounds.

"In time, Tera, the galaxy will be ours."

Oh he was manipulative. Tera consumed every word; blinded by the lure of the dark side she believed anything her master told her while simultaneously secretly forming her own plan to command his spirit for her deeds. Tomen sensed her feelings, he allowed her to think she had a way to gain advantage and that he was a meager disembodied form summoned from her own dark incantations. Tomen seated himself upon his throne. He leaned against the back rest, transplanting both hands upon the ornate armrests.

He said nothing, yet Tera heard every word wailing forth from his inner regions. Macabre whispers infiltrated her ears from beyond, penetrating her thoughts. In the cries of agony, her physical form released the grip of the ancient blade she still clutched as it clanked upon the stone. She grasped the sides of her head, burying her forehead in her hands in a vain attempt to block her perineal glands from the ethereal barrage of torturous murmurs. The intensity of the suffering souls focused within her thoughts as she visualized each spirit that called to her from damnation.

In the eternal pains she gazed from between her fingers to witness the forms of the disembodied forms flying in front of her seeming to emanate from her master's torso in a string of ectoplasm. Forms of spirits torn asunder from eternal rest clawed and scratched their way into her mind via her forehead each one suffering in agonizing hell. Most were devoid of facial features, orifices sealed for eternity or altogether absent from their visage.

One figure presided over the others, familiar from Tera's previous experiences. Mandin glided in front of Tera, wailing and crying like the other spirits before her. Tera recognized the fiery hair adorning her head as her form draped in the tattered remains of their rudimentary Sith apparel fashioned in vain by Tera. Mandin's spirit form grabbed at Tera's skull, yet her hands like the other spirits quickly disappeared as the form entered Tera's mind.

Tera dropped to her knees begging her master to cease the pain. She wailed bloody tears that streamed from her eyes smearing against her hands with light crimson as if painted upon her palms. Pressure in her skull began to push through her eyes as her brain felt like it were bubbling upon a cauldron. She sweated heavily, prone to all fours by this moment before her jolting nerves caused her body to collapse upon the floor in an unexplainable physical reaction.

"Know this; true mastery of the dark side lies only in one's death. You must be willing to kill yourself and surrender to the will of the dark side before you can fulfill your vocation. You did not learn this lesson with Babalon; you do not want to learn this lesson from me. Your feelings cannot escape me for I have sensed your treachery from the beginning. I was wrong about you. You are weak and undeserving of my gifts. Your desire for power will cause your obliteration."

Tera winced in pain as Tomen spoke to her nonchalantly, her bloody tears streaked upon her cheeks. She struggled while lying upon her left side. The skimpy metallic armor tickled upon the floor as she strained in distress. Her left arm outstretched upon the floor, her weakened muscles labored to maintain composure. Tera gripped fingernails into the cold stone using what strength remained. Sounds of brittle keratin chipped away as she grabbed into the ancient floor.

"Master," her voice whispered. Begging would make her punishment worse showing weakness. The Sith purged its frail subjects. Her thoughts fought to form her own words as the remaining screams of internal torture faded away.

"Are you begging?"

"No, master," her voice regained minute strength, "Your will is mine. I submit to you."

And for this, she pleased him. Tomen eased the suffering he subjected to her. Tera remained physically weakened from the spiritual barrage of anguish. He began a graceful stride toward her ailing form; his stature invoked the glorious elegance of royalty. Tera slowly choked on her own blood; gasping and panting for air as a direct result of her brain shutting down organs in neural response to her second mental abuse at her master's hand.

Tomen arrived to his student and leaned down to meet her face to face, squatting to straddle her form. He placed his hands upon his poleyns protecting his knees. He proceeded to slam his metal-laced right fist into the stone beside her left cheek causing the stone to chip away into a fine powder imprinted with his fist. He forcefully grabbed her blood-smeared chin, cutting her face with the metallic linings from his thumb and index finger as his index finger pulled slightly upon the folds of skin beneath her right eye exposing the red-tinted tear glands set within.

"You are forever enslaved. You have no will, save that I command. You have learned the main tenet of the Sith. Deception is law, and you will never gain advantage upon me."

Tera whimpered in acknowledgement, a single salty tear dripped from her eye trickling upon the metal claw scratching her cheek below. Like a salt river, the droplet continued past her cheek and onto her chin burning her face in welcome relief. At least it wasn't blood, she thought. She hesitated to look away from the imposing form squat before her. Tomen's countenance boiled fear within her soul. There was no turning back, she was, as he commanded, forever enslaved.

She recalled her childhood and her tutelage at the Jedi Praxeum. As a young girl, her innocence taken by the dark dreams she experienced on a nightly basis. From her youth, Tomen eyed her for himself. Tera possessed a special talent that escaped Luke and his master Yoda that Tomen's ancient spirit honed in on with the compendium housing his soul. She struggled looking away, her face displaying disobedience.

Tomen imposed his will with the strength to nearly crack her spine as he forced her face to meet his own. Tera could smell every molecule of breath emanating through his nostrils tickling across her lips with a frosty glaze. She stared into his ancient darkened eyes into a soul empty for eons filled only with unending spite towards the living. He returned her gaze with a pearly sneer.

"Your quarry approaches from Ossus," he began, "I shall count on your death." It wasn't just a warning, but a forecast.

Luke's travel through hyperspace seemed to last for eternity guided by the Force without the aide of technical navigation. With each sequential jump from Ossus, Luke felt indescribable suffering through the Force as if the Force itself was in pain. He recalled how Yoda's spirit described to him the pains of the Force the diminutive being felt the moment his father, Anakin Skywalker succumbed to the teachings of Darth Sidious. Luke steadied his mind as his craft's warning sirens blared to inform the approaching gravity well.

The web of noodling stars coalesced into the familiar existence of three-dimensional sight as Luke's aging focus concentrated upon the dead star. The distant white dwarf loomed in the distance like sickened livestock. Death lingered in this foreign and ancient system, an ominous cry from the familiarity of living stars. Luke called through the Force only to be blinded and misguided by the strong presence of the dark side.

His StealthX alerted him to the close proximity of an unknown gravity well so immense it echoed off the navcomputer's computations. Luke concluded the proximity of the Roth system to the origination of the galactic black hole that binds the physical junction of the galactic stars. In this system, amongst the primordial birthplace, Luke experienced intense Force e energies the likes of which not felt since Palpatine's demise from his own Force Storm.

The Force tugged at this soul beckoning him like a lost child. Through the Force he felt a previous meditation; the innocence of lost youth on Tatooine. It felt as if the Force called to him from all possibilities past present and future. He saw the youth of his father repairing a broken pod and the ageless wisdom of a Jedi supervising the boy's work. The boy morphed into a man, garbed in darkened robes adorned with curled and scraggled hair surrounded by fire and flame extending a vile hand towards an innocent woman great with child. He'd seen this vision before, recorded playback from his loyal droid Artoo-Detoo, only this time it wasn't a recording. The Force was playing this for him as he oversaw the arcane events on Mustafar. As the vision progressed, his dark-faithed father became cocooned in a raven, metal prison forever entombed as living death.

Further visions flowed across his mind, distracting him from the physical task of piloting his ship. He focused instead apart from the Force visions to the impending task of navigating into a decaying planetoid formation. The dark side clouded his visions, entrancing him with the lure of seduction; the focus to his attachments and to his feelings. Palpatine's words aboard the Second Death Star were coming true. Your _faith in your friends is yours_, harkened back to the thoughts of mutual weaknesses. Palpatine tugged at Luke's compassion much like his father's. It was these thoughts of love for all beings that guided Luke towards an untimely demise.

He pulled the yoke between his legs to avoid being sucked into the minute gravity of the planetary orb to a rocky death. The nose of the StealthX pitched towards orbit as rocks and debris were hurled into space slingshot from his ion engines. Amidst the fields of ancient planet, Luke spied a few dozen graves of crashed ships whose pilots he surmised were distracted by the personal horrors that haunted them.

Not soon after regaining control of his craft and propelling beyond the planet most distant from the faded sun he was able to focus on the remainder of the planetary graveyard. His ships computers were no longer usable; rendered inoperable from the proximity of the event horizon. The Force likewise, was no longer at his aide; the horrors of the dark side swelled around him with the deformed and disembodied spirits of Sith magicians stalking his thoughts.

"I can feel you ancient one, you have no power over me." Luke shouted telepathically, his words empowering his reflexes and emboldened his spirit. Luke pushed strong against the yoke of his ship engaging his engines into overtime as they whined and rocketed the StealthX further into the ancient system. Luke's ship swirled and yawed through the graveyard of decaying objects exhibiting the skills of an ace combat pilot. Luke would not allow his adversary to haunt his visions; instead he distanced himself from the Force allowing his physical human reflexes to guide him toward the third planet of this system.

In total, Luke counted eight planets each of them rotting as dead from their equally fated star save the third in orbit from the lifeless mass of hydrogen and helium. Upon this planet Luke sensed the unmistakable lure of the dark side, the same forces that beckoned him on Wayland under the servitude of Darth Sidious' clones. It was there, Luke felt the spirit hiding within the forbidden scripts and above all her, his lost pupil Tera.

Sinister visions erupted upon him; visions of a young woman hiding underneath a shoddy bed as her parents were slumped upon it. Decayed fingers of pus-riddled flesh crawled below the cot as if they were Dagobah knob-spiders searching for prey. A decorative war gauntlet protected the wrists and forearm attached to the appendage as crackled keratin clutched the tattered tunics of the small girl beneath furniture. Frightened screams of terror echoed across the vision as the youngling was forced from her hiding to meet the baleful countenance of an ancient spirit.

Tera's childish emerald eyes returned gaze amidst a sea of tears welting upon her face as she focused upon the hollowed eye sockets of the rotting corpse encased in a menacing raven armor. The being held Tera to its chest, her feet lifted from the floor wiggling as an infant being held by its parent. Foggy mists of a cerulean-violet energy erupted from the eyes evaporating as they met the air. The form cocked its head towards the Jedi that penetrated upon his turf.

Speaking through the peeled flesh of decomposing lips in foreboding guttural growl, it spoke to Luke, "No Jedi. She has always been mine."

Sirens blared interrupting his Force-riddled visions that alerted Luke to an incoming threat as he swerved his craft again to avoid one of the eight dead planets in Roth's system. As he cleared the horizon of the shrunken orb, slingshotting the curvature, the third planet Roth orbited in the distance around its fading sun.

Luke's knowledge about this world was scarce, only what Bna'hai's notes and Revan's teachings told him. The planet was lost on all Republic and Jedi records tracing back to the Battle of Ruusan. Scouring Imperial data tapes during his stay on Ossus revealed sparse information as well. Luke dared venture into Palpatine's journals and diaries only revealing that the ancient tome that Luke secured for many years focused any and all dark side energies around it enhancing those of the user. Its origins remained a mystery even to him. Roth had literally been lost. Its close proximity to the Galactic primordial enhanced its allure.

As Luke's StealthX approached near-orbit, the littered junk of empty ships and other vessels created an artificial planetary ring of hazardous waste. Many ships still spewed hydraulics and other toxic liquids into the empty vastness of space. Luke summoned his feelings through the Force, focusing on the light as much as he could to reach out towards ancient Jedi spirits. Through the Force, he heard the cries of the inhabitants of these ships, their souls consumed and imprisoned upon the planet below. Luke continued to pinpoint upon the source as his thoughts led him towards a landmass opposite his approach on the daylight side of the dead star.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Remnants of lost civilizations scarred the surface of Roth as Luke skimmed across in low-altitude orbit. The planet exhibited a history long dead, an allegory of rise and decline. Ancient continents that once teemed with life now existed as barren wastelands rotting under the advancement of methane swamps and volcanic ashes. As he penetrated into atmosphere, his fighter's avionics systems registered a catastrophic drop in shield capacity as the acidic rains pummeled his particle shields. Caustic bubbles spewed and popped on once lively oceans as the StealthX detected an abnormal atmosphere of methane and sulfur with trace amounts of metabolical gasses. Roth was a veritable greenhouse of death.

Luke's craft passed over ancient buildings crumbling from eons of neglect. He felt an ancient civilization rich in life and culture; an ancient metropolis utilizing technologies unrecorded, a civilization tied to the earth from whence they came without the luxuries of air or space travel. It was as if the people here relied on primitive magics and science in an age whose expanse escaped known history. Luke guided his craft towards the northern pole across a vast sea of ashen swamps fuming with acidic gasses hostile to organic life.

Luke had lived for decades nearly seventy years of age and connected as strong in the Force as ever. He obtained the rank of Grand Jedi Master through self-preparation and unanimous consensus amongst his peers. Of all the Jedi to have existed tracing back to the earliest Academy on Tython, not a single one had come close to setting foot upon this planet. Luke understood the secret for this system was a sinister place indeed. The dark side was strong here, stronger than any presence in his day. Palpatine, aided by every other Sith Master Luke had researched could not have conjured enough Sith magicks aided by every Sith artifact in their collections to muster the potent energies present.

Strong in the Force, coursing the light side through every nerve, every cell, every molecule and midichlorian through his body pained him in the advanced concentration necessary to overcome the temptations luring him to his death. He triangulated the Force to guide him to a mountainous valley covered in contrasting whiteness upon the horizon.

The flight in Roth's atmosphere led Luke to believe that his only real threat would be the looming Sith presence. Tomen called off his legions of Sith guardians and alchemical beasts that consumed those who dared venture here, he anticipated Luke's arrival. As Luke's spacecraft continued its descent towards the icy valley of the ancient pyramid city, Luke witnessed the monstrosities committed by the malicious creations. Flying, leathery winged beasts twice as large as his StealthX drifted through gnarled, deathly gray groves of trees. With each pass of attack, the flying creatures scraped across the scarred, chalky grey surface uprooting piles of bloody lumber in a ferocious feeding frenzy.

The beings rose in altitude with each pass, gnarling away at the prey they had consumed from the forests. Only Luke observed they weren't eating other animals, but the trees themselves that shattered in their massive beak-like jaws in a gory splatter of wood and fluids. With each ear-piercing crunch of the flock's jaws, tremors in the Force rippled through Luke's soul with each clench of the creatures' bites consuming the damned souls that inhabited the dying forest. The creatures consumed the trees, and the trees, Luke felt were souls of condemned dark-siders.

"Chaos is here. I can feel darkness surround this place, like a vacuum of the Force. If there is a Netherworld to the Force, this must be where dark siders are condemned."

Luke's thoughts began to wander, towards ages past and the memories of adversaries long smote. The images of Sith warriors long deceased by his hands. Would this prison be their vengeance, he wondered? Palpatine's twisted soul would certainly be here. Luke recalled the sizzling crackle of Lumiya's whip and the haunting screams of Joruus C'Boath as he too succumbed to his dark perversions. They were darkened by their transgressions, forever lost to the will of the dark side. It was here, Luke felt, his adversaries seethed in revenge.

Was that his calling? Was death his welcome for arriving? He prepared himself on Ossus for nearly a year; meditating and focusing on the will of the Force. Revan's arrival aided his teachings. He saw Ben and his family on Ossus; the young infant cuddling in his mother's arms in swaddling robes as she provided him nourishment. Ben Skywalker, Luke's flesh and blood, trained with his fellow master, K'Kruhk in methodical sparring techniques to freshen his skills. Luke comforted his aging mind with his vision, his legacy would continue.

In stark contrast to the methane bogs, Luke's craft rocketed towards the valley bathed in metabolical oxygen. The mountainous region marked upon this ancient continent in an icy bath of fog obscuring any visible landmarks or landing zones. Here, the darkness had been at apex. The Force could not guide Luke to a safe landing spot, but using the Force he guided his craft towards the strongest signatures descending below the cloud line.

The central pyramid rose from the ground in a mammoth display of ancient architectural prowess perfectly aligned with Force pulses seething across the planet in perfectly symmetrical lines as if stitched by an ancient hand. Luke felt the convergence marking the central capstone of the ancient building. Whatever ancient culture erected this colossal temple did so by the guidance of the Force itself. Surrounding the massive ziggurat had been structures of similar design, smaller in size and arranged similar to a primordial city.

The Force guided Luke's thoughts reaching far beyond any known civilizations. Revan's words rung true, the ancient layout had been conceived by a culture long dead before galactic colonization. The StealthX glided close to the deck of the planet, buzzing across the tops of the stone structures. Luke felt cold, not from the atmosphere, but from the stillness in the Force. Like a vacuum, he felt an absence of the Force as his craft's cockpit canopy opened. He stood upon his chair as his StealthX glided towards the entry of the violet-hued pyramid structure. The rockets grinding into a halt propelling his ship into a near stillness as it hovered a few meters from the ground. The winds of ice whipped across his face as he began to shed his flight suit to reveal his blackened Jedi robes underneath.

Luke clinched at the hilt of his lightsaber resting at the side of his right hip, the ancient weapon of the Jedi Knight that for eons such knowledge had passed down from generation to generation. Luke forged a temporary lightsaber for this mission with a stronger power conduit and emitter matrix and concealed them in a Force-imbued magnetic shroud. He wondered if the blade would be effective against such an ancient foe. Bna'hai's blade had been defused for weeks after her encounter with the primordial ghost, demagnetized by the Force itself. Luke hoped this new construct would be formidable against the ancient magic.

Luke comforted his aging figure by the heat emitted from his craft's engines. A blur of distorted oxygen exited violently in an ionic storm from the engine nacelles of his spaceship. He embraced a quick burst of healing air in the surrounding landscape to confirm his ship registered the breathable atmosphere correctly. With a leap of the Force, he propelled himself from the edge of his cockpit, tumbling in the air with the grace his master Obi-Wan exhibited in his prime during the Clone Wars.

Somersaulting with a few revolutions, his feet planted firmly upon the powdered surface, his body followed in suit as his knees bent in centripetal force, forming his figure in a bowing stance. His arms had folded against his chest; his head had bowed to face the ground as his ball of his right boot had planted upon the ground. The StealthX whined to liftoff, skimming the tops of the ancient structures as it exited the pyramid city behind him.

Luke's eyes traced the monstrosity before him, straining his neck to locate the ancient capstone many meters above him. His goal existed within, the vacuum of the Force; the candle of darkness must be extinguished to secure the fate of the galaxy. Failure and death would follow. Death to all living things guided by the Force; his son, wife and grandson, his sister, his niece and her husband. Death would not segregate. Innocent beings not connected to the Force would face extinction.

Planets would be barren and infertile matching Roth in their existence. Whole species would be wiped out instantly should he fail; genocide on a massive scale unmatched by the atrocities that Palpatine carried out. The Force guided his focus to words spoken by his father encased in his metal prison. _The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force. _The apparitions of death that haunted Luke held Vader's words true. True mastery of the dark side could bring the end of civilization. Palpatine mechanized his twisted distortion of the dark side, for that he was damned.

Rows of pillars stuck into the ground at the foot of the ancient pyramid behind Luke. Luke could hear the pains calling to him, distorting his focus into the malady of despair, ancient souls whose transgressions manifested within Luke called to him for forgiveness. One particular signature called to him from the valley of the damned, echoing across the ancient voids of the dark side. He recognized this being; this sinister form whose gnarled death grip crawled upon Luke's left shoulder.

Luke craned his neck, his azure eyes gazing through salty, aging bangs. His right hand clinched towards his weapon in preparation for attack. A lone right hand resting on his shoulder ended in rust-colored nails brittle from decay. Luke revolved, forcing the hand to brush from his body. The figure took a familiar stance, cobbled on a glossy cane embraced by a full-figured raven cloak. The stature stood smaller than Luke, hunched over by a creaking back. Luke could see no face, but recognized the stark hiss that erupted in its voice.

"You cannot save her, Skywalker. She is ours. She belongs to us. She belongs to the dark side. You cannot redeem her as you did your pathetic father," Palpatine's spirit crooned.

Luke looked upon the spirit with an unsettling nerve. Palpatine's corporeal apparition fluttered in front of Luke, disembodied by the torturous finality of his hell. Luke could see nothing but a darkened void within the cowl of his old foe as if Palpatine himself hid beneath his cloak ashamed of his appearance. The darkened abyss of death that encompassed Palpatine shuttered with a jolt of Force energies. Ethereal wisps of violet energies vomited from the cloak's orifices, spilling into the air like a ghastly fog. In an instant, the figure burst into an explosion of Force energies creating a slight wound in the Force in its place, glistening with a darkened orb of absent light floating a few feet above the ground.

Luke shielded his eyes with his left forearm from the sudden explosion of light. His hair ruffled slightly in the gust of Force-created wind. Luke wrinkled his eyes at the glowing orb of darkened energy that replaced Palpatine's figure before it too whimpered into oblivion. Luke turned his head, craning at the massive staircase before him. Icy winds stared back at him glistening latticed crystal across his grey eyebrows. He breathed heavy before his meditations rushed his form with the aide of the Force towards the top of the staircase into a Force Run.

Feats no match for the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Luke had full mastery of the Force even amidst the gashing wound in the Force this planetary system displayed. The massive wound kept the system hidden, and for this Luke concluded was why the system escaped the Jedi Archives. Beyond Had Abaddon and beyond Prakith the Jedi Archives were scarce about the Deep Core worlds. Many conspirators suspected life evolved from the primordial stars created by the super massive black hole and slowly expanded into the galactic proper.

Luke believed them. He experienced the Great Wound; the Dark Abyss that Bna'hai's notes spoke of as scrawled upon the hull of _The Red Dawn_ in dried blood and excrement. Zayne shed his clues to the great mystery of the beginnings of the Force and the galaxy in perpetual insanity. Bna'hai could not decipher the symbols and the ancient holocrons of the knowledgeable Jedi refused to help. The Masters knew, and would not divulge such arcane information. Ignorance served as a form of control, for if the Masters would not provide the info they could control what knowledge was relinquished. The Sith knew of their roots and likewise kept it hidden. The Great Ruse served the purpose of the One True Sith. It all made sense to Luke now.

Luke reached the apex of the staircase in short bursts of Force speed. His thoughts honed upon his upcoming task as he stared into the massive hallway leading into the main chambers of the pyramid. Through the Force, he gaped deeply into the confronting abyss and in return, its icy gaze focused upon him. As his boots clamored upon the stone surface that contrasted with the violet crystalline structure surrounding the internal chambers, the voices of ancient Sith moaned in sinister echoes. Taunts of despair and foreboding crossed through his mind, but he did not relinquish. He gave them no reason to attack for he refused to draw his weapon.

An ancient lesson he learned decades ago upon Dagobah. His failure at the cave, it beckoned to him once more. Should he draw his weapon, he would invite the enemies of the light to destroy him as it did his father. With each bold step upon the marble floors, he focused upon the light side but found empty darkness. The Wound was too strong to focus on the light; he was behind metaphysical enemy lines.

He heard whispers again. One minute, a guttural laugh reminiscent of Jabba the Hutt's corpulent vocal cords and the next an innocent child giggling marred by the pitter patter of feet. As Luke continued, the feet fluttered further and the innocent laughing intensified in volume. Music played in a seemingly tinging dirge emanating from a child's music box, each note stinged his ears in sharp piercings with each measure. The strength of the dark side intensified, Luke could feel the cold chills of his physical world and the ethereal planes of the vacuum in the Force swirling together like a whirlpool. His heart paced in pulsing synchronicity mark-timed to the innocent dirge. Hostile whispers cackled across the ancient halls.

A corporeal presence glistened across Luke's shoulders, brushing across his salty hairs raising his minute follicles across his spine. The cold chill of death whispered into Luke's ears taunting him with disgruntling words of dismay. The songs of pain rung like a chorus of malaise as the tinging dirges intensified in volume culminating into a building crescendo of anticipation.

A darkened silhouette stood in front of Luke as the external light from the dying star faded into the raven abyss. Luke could not recognize the features, but the shadow was a fraction of his height, about the size of a small child. The form manifested with frizz-frazzled onyx hair adorning her scalp. Crimson, sinister eyes glazed over with blood set upon the face slowly dissolving into recognition. Pasty and chalked, the small girl's visage harkened into a disguise of misuse and emptiness. Her lips were dried and purple, close to pale.

The figure had been dressed in a disheveled jumpsuit similar to those of slaves on Tatooine. Soils and soot scarred the clothes as if the body itself had been abused with years of neglect. The child's pale right hand clutched upon the hilt of a lightsaber, but did not ignite it. Luke paused at the apparition and recognized it.

"Tera," his voice softly proclaimed, his right hand reaching out towards the mirage. Luke remembered her from when he found her on Tatooine searching for answers regarding his father's history. Decades ago, he recalled it like the memory was only weeks old. He felt her torment and remembered her past; her innocence long removed that fateful day on Tatooine when her father murdered her mother in cold blood then took shed his own mortal coil. From that moment forward the ancient dark one violently grabbed her by the hand and consumed her soul.

Upon his tone, the figure growled, turned and ran further into the darkness screaming with the wail of the multitudes condemned to damnation that echoed insurmountably across the stone architecture. Luke's physiological reaction caused his heart to race, which he summoned his strength in the Force to muster his body into a calm state. As his stride carried him deeper, the icy sting of the summoning abyss picked at him.

Luke ventured further into the darkened hallway; dim glimmers of fiery torches illuminated their sinister shadows across the walls and ceiling revealing the ancient pictograms adorning the walls. As his journey continued, the cold breathes of the past stirred through the walkway, heavy metallic breathing of an artificial lung billowed across the walls. Luke recollected the sound as the unmistakable raspy breaths of his father's armored Sith prison. Each intake followed by an exhale beat through him syncopating again with his heart rhythms.

The Ancient Sith manifested his arcane rituals through his temple in an attempt to strike fear into his adversary. Luke was strong in the Force, this much Tomen had foreseen. He was, after all the son of the Chosen One; born of a primordial Sith ritual to manipulate the Force to create life. Rather than allowing the Force to create its own life from the true balance of nature, the Sith sought to create artificial beings for their bidding. Many of these beings formed from imperfection; tainted by the very soul that created them. Each of them distorted and perverted into foul beasts which served a singular purpose of mindless guardians that at times attacked their creators.

Anakin Skywalker was the culmination of eons of Sith ritual perfected by strict meditations and commitments by his creator, Darth Plagueis. Luke continued, his father's heavy breathing numbing his skull like poison. The groans of a wailing corpse increased throughout the foreboding antechambers as he drew closer to the primary room. Shadows flittered across the walls unmatched with the sparse fire-light. These shadows moved with the Force, floating upon the floor and ceiling coalescing from behind Luke a few meters in front of him. In all his years, Luke never encountered such remarkable abilities. This was pure hatred and darkness manifest in physical form. Roth reeked of it.

Shadows moved further, swirling upon the floor in front of Luke darkened by the faint light twinkling from the torches lined the walls. The figure appeared to float in front of Luke, a silhouette of an unfamiliar form grotesque and distorted. A head formed at the height of the ghost as tall as Luke. Glistening eyes glowed of a bright preternatural crimson set upon the shadowed face as the figure's silhouette continued into a twisted twirl of pitch. Arms of raven wisps protruded from the sides of the spirit form ending in a clawed appearance that if physical would rip through flesh like vibrocutters.

"Mistress looks forward to your arrival," the being announced in a raspy tone as he motioned forward for Luke into the primary audience chamber. The servant posed no harm as ethereal lights illuminated the temple room as bright as a sterile triage. The shadow disappeared as the luminescence overpowered it into a flicker of oblivion.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Luke paused, eyeing the room that lay before him. He was amazed at the vast chamber littered from floor to high ceiling with the various hieroglyphs and markings that signified the once ancient culture. The planetary model that presided upon the floor and ceiling reminded him of the orbiting orbs around the dead star. Tomen's ancient people had a vast understanding of their surrounding cosmos for a non-space faring culture. Luke processed the information around him, the sinister pictograms of human sacrifice and sexual rites that coincided with pictures of ancient gods above their skies. The archaic cultures were worshippers of violent practices and lustful sins which undoubtedly led to their demise as a people.

Resting in the distance, a voluptuous, pale female lazily reclined upon the golden dais recessed into the far wall. Her left leg dangled across the left armrest as her right foot planted upon the stone. Her right hand graced her freshly manicured raven nails against a metallic weapon of an ancient forge that rested along across the armrests. Sin gleamed across her jade eyes that peered into Luke's soul as she streaked her index finger across the sharp blade. Pricked blood trickled onto the blade as the magical alloy sizzled in response. She lifted her index finger to her onyx lips and licked it seductively. Her finger retreated from her mouth, curling the others in an open fist. Tera licked the blood remaining upon her lips grinning in suit. Tomen's ancient media had rested to the side of the throne, leafs of pages facing forward as it lay as placed on a shelf.

Hibernating silently with still breathes to the flanks of the throne rested Tomen's hell hounds; Sith creatures of which Luke knew nothing about but surmised their danger to be of the corporeal caliber. He sensed darkness and hatred within them, a capability to consume the very souls of their adversaries at their master's whim. Sharpened canines formed an under bite which could tear through flesh like krayt dragons in a Tusken camp. The Ancient Dark One was suspiciously absent despite the lure of his apprentice to Roth. Luke knew better than to let his physical senses deceive him; a powerful darkness permeated this temple. Luke felt the presence of death.

Puberty had been inordinately kind to Tera since Luke last remembered her as an innocent child he left behind. He surmised she had aged ten years since their last fateful meeting before he left for Coruscant to deal with the Yuuzhan Vong threat. That was well over twenty years ago, but she looked not a day over twenty-five. Biologically, she should be approaching forty. She wore a suit consisted of a chain mail covering that protected her buxom chest which had been protected by a leathery garment below to shield the skin layers from irritation. A shortened black skirt had been tailored to the length of her mid-thighs held by a dated decorative belt. Leathery sandals covered her feet, laced to mid-calf also composed of a pitch hue. She no longer wore the training garbs that Tomen had commissioned for her, but instead chose a simple war ensemble.

To Luke, Tera was still a child but her figure seductively deceived him. To that, she grinned childishly through her frizzled hair which became her trademark as a youth. Luke reached to her through the Force and felt his attempt repelled by a foreboding spirit. This was the spirit of death, the Great Old Sith who commanded this relic. He sensed a fight in Tera and readied his spirit for defense.

Without hesitation, Tera clasped the hilt of her ancient weapon and sprung to her feet, twirling the weapon to her right side in one swift motion she flashed across the room to lunge at her former master wielding the ancient sword with both hands. Luke extended his right hand and using the Force, his lightsaber freed from his belt clip and ignited with a sizzling low-octave hum as his digits surrounded the hilt. He countered Tera's attack by crossing his blade across his head bracing for her lunging attack that reached from above her head. The combination of alloy on plasma echoed across the chambers with the vibrations of a crackling whip.

Luke sensed her strength building from within. She had learned much since her youth as she regained her balance to bring the blade to attack from Luke's right side. He returned with a twisting defensive stance that brought his blade in perfect ninety degree alignment to cross her blade. Luke removed his hands from his lightsaber hilt permitting the blade to float in stationary beside him. He drew his hands to his chest as Tera attempted to follow them with the point of her Sith-infused weapon. Luke repelled her through the Force, flinging the blade to cackle against the ancient stone as her body landed with a thud beside it.

Luke's lightsaber spun around to shimmer in front of him, the blade pointing towards the planetary model upon the ceiling. He calmed his emotions, clenching his hands together causing his darkened robes to fold their sleeves as one solid piece. Tera clutched her head in pain, still reeling from the trauma the ancient stone pounded in her. In adamant rage, she hyper extended her hands to aim at Luke and with a flurry of anger unleashed a barrage of latticed, violet-hued lightning. Her eyes gleamed over with intense hatred changing from its natural beauty to a demented shade of yellow.

As commanded, Luke's lightsaber absorbed the fiery blast doing little to faze the Grand Jedi Master. The Jedi weapon glowed with the lightning assault. The lightning sizzled into dissipation with a reduced fanfare that caused to produce it.

"It is useless, Tera. Your hatred can never prevail. The dark side will surely consume you and you will die with it."

"I will take you with me for what you did! You betrayed me!" Tera proclaimed. Commanding the Force, the Sith sword entered Tera's hands from its resting place beside her feet. She twirled the weapon around her head before aiming the blade at her adversary. A bolt of crimson energy skimmed across the blade culminating at the tip before increasing intensity to send a pulse of raw hatred-imbued dark side Force racing towards Luke. A metaphysical weapon Luke had not witnessed, but understood his grasp of the Force could easily counter; he expanded his left hand towards the oncoming blast and absorbed it with the Force before repelling it against a statue in the far corner. The stone monument shattered upon the floor as the impact rippled aurally through the chambers causing a fraction of the light to dim.

"I won't hurt you Tera. You were like a daughter to me."

"Liar! You left me to die at the hands of those ruthless barbarians. The Almighty Sith has shown me the true way, the true nature of the Force. When the Force abandoned me, he showed me Truth. All life is death and all life must come to the great Chaos."

"Wrong, Tera! The Force did not abandon you, you abandoned the Force and my teachings," Luke's calm demeanor reminded her, raising a solitary index finger on his right hand in an effect to calm her via the Force.

Tera released the blade with her right arm, the strength of which caused the blade to overweigh her left arm and drop to the floor aiming the point on the cold stone. Her right arm clenched her fist in a compressing motion directed at Luke. He clutched his throat in response to the choke attempt, an attack more powerful than any other as every cell in his trachea reacted with the constraints of the Force.

"Now you will feel true pain, Jedi. I will exact my revenge and rule the galaxy to my will."

"You will rule a galaxy of lifeless void, you will have no subjects," Luke winced as her choke held stronger, "That is what your master teaches and when he is done, he will dispose of you. That is the way of the Sith you have yet to learn."

With renewed faith, he repelled the attack. He returned his breath as he heard Tera's right hand crackle, her fingers exhibited four cracks, each bone splintering at the joints in throbbing pain. She dropped her blade to cuddle her right hand against her chest. The pain distracted her temporarily, enough for Luke to regain his focus and using the Force, repelled her body rocketing towards the golden throne. Tera landed against the backrest, the chain mail covering her torso crinkled in reaction while her spine too reacted. Vertebrae crackled as her movable force contacted the immovable object. She slumped into the chair, wincing in pain.

The impact awoke Tomen's guard dogs and in response they stood upon all fours growling in anger. Ferocious beasts culled from the depths of hatred, Luke succeeded to calm them in the Force turning them into a whimper as they hurriedly retreated into a wisp of blue spectacle.

Even imbued in Tomen's pure darkness, she was no match in her mortal form for the Jedi Master. Her legs collapsed in a limp as her spine ebbed with paralysis below her hips. Blood began to pool towards her feet as her body lay limp from the assault. Specks of fluttering light permeated her vision as she regained her consciousness. Broken, beaten and confined, she burned her anger inside to call upon the darkness erupting from her soul.

"You cannot win, Tera. If I have to, I can kill you to defend you from yourself," Luke sternly reminded as he approached the ailing opponent, his lightsaber hummed continuing to float in front of his figure.

One by one, Tera cracked her vertebrae into formation. Each repair crackled and popped coursing through her extremities. Nerves in her legs reconnected to their electrical impulses tingling across her thighs. Tera floated into the air, hovering above the brilliant dais blanketed in crimson lightning bathing across her form. Her body extended into the shape of a crucifix; fingers outstretched, head cocked backward and her legs straightened with her feet pointing downward. Tera's mouth gaped open, aiming it toward the ceiling.

Luke was taken aback as he witnessed the spectacle. Empowered with hatred, Tera crossed her arms across her face. Prickles of crimson energy sparkled and fizzed across her fingernails. She forced her arms to extend in front of her torso sending her rage into a tsunami of Force energy propelled towards Luke. The crimson luminance brightened the room as she strained to keep the focus upon the destruction of her adversary.

Luke's lightsaber was motioned out his way as he too outstretched his hands to repel the onslaught of darkness. His body squatted in a defensive stance; left knee bent and the ball of his right foot planted firm against the stone. His reaction placed a barrier between him and Tera's powers that created a searing white light as her lightning collided against an invisible field.

"Die Luke!"

Tera's anger compounded further. Veins in her forehead pounded through her skin displaying that her physical form struggled to maintain composure. Luke's boots dug into the stone, chipping the ancient architecture as the physics of the invisible barrier pushed against him. Energetic winds swirled through the room, causing his salted hair to whisk violently. Luke's azure eyes exhibited constraint under the pressure of defense. Luke allowed himself to be calm and focused on the webs of energy emanating from Tera.

Each trickle of red traced into an endpoint. Each one of them had an origin and on that he focused. He envisioned thousands of tiny projectiles reaching back into a source of suffering and pain. Through Tera's mind he reached back into her soul to the past and discovered the barbaric invasion of Yavin Four by the Yuuzhan Vong. He felt her pain and her loss as she hid in the jungles awaiting deportation to the Vong enslavement camps for unspeakable torture.

Her teenage form was frail and majestic as she clutched upon the ancient book that guided her escape from Yavin Four. Luke saw her on Naboo, the birthplace of his mother and the ruler of the Galactic Empire, Palpatine. Amidst Palpatine's chambers, the vision carried weight on Luke as Tera meditated back in time to witness Palpatine discussing plans with Luke's father, the servant Vader. He touched her inner angers as she returned to the Galactic Proper, sowing her seeds with three recruits of equal age and naiveté. The vision gave Luke the silhouettes of her friends, but they were of no importance for he needed to focus on the central reasoning.

A building hatred encircled her for years as she fermented her plans led by the ancient spirit always at her side. Tera noticeably strained, unable to control her powers. Tentacles of white energy flowed from Luke's fingers to touch upon Tera's crimson display. The powers etched across the dark assaults, slowly dissolving the crimson lines in pure whiteness. Within moments, Tera's body had been engulfed in pure white; Luke enveloped his foe with his own kindness. Her fiery eyes returned to a natural emerald gleam. In an instant, her body propelled skyward towards the high ceiling crunching her stomach and chest into the stone overhead causing her lungs to collapse and puncture before her body limped to the floor.

Individually her vertebrae severed, each nerve fiber unraveled throughout her spine like as a rope unraveled from the cord. Luke psychically pricked a nerve, touching her past and severing her connection to the Force. She lay on the cold floor silent and quadriplegic. She groaned, straining to speak through the blood gurgling through her lips. Luke sheathed his lightsaber, clipping it back onto his hilt as he approached his former apprentice.

He kneeled to her side, brushing her frizzled hair and grasping her clammy hands as her body drew colder. Her face increased in pale complexion. Tera's lips discolored, slowly fading to purple. She struggled to strain her dying breaths.

"Luke," her throat forced, coughing a blot of blood, "please, I don't want to die here. Not with him. Destroy the book... to save your galaxy."

Luke sighed, his face weighed heavy at the loss of life he recently afflicted. He brushed her eyelids closed, reflecting upon her life through the Force. He did what must be done, he thought. He arose from the ground and turned to face the book resting on its side. It remained undisturbed as if waiting for a new victim to consume. Luke apologized to Tera's body, knowing her dying wish should have occurred several decades ago.

A singular hand encompassed in raven pitched gauntlets, ripped through Tera's body crunching through flesh and bone bursting through her ribs gripped closed as it exhumed from the left side of her chest. Onyx hued alloy guarded the digits of the hand ending in points slightly longer than the fingernails. Tera's corpse reacted in momentum as her eyes flushed open in shock from a final blow. She whimpered a soft "no" as she understood her fate having witnessed before. Within the phantom hand did not exist Tera's heart, but a glowing orb of black hatred surrounded in radiating purple dazzle that sparked and fizzled as the hand crunched it into an ambience of oblivion fading in the process. As the hand disappeared, Tera's body blackened into a sooty pitch, withering away in an invisible wind leaving a charred residue amongst the virgin stone surface.

A sinister bass chortle followed the spectacle as Luke stood stunned. A deafening string of metal scraping stone echoed from the darkened hallway that emptied to the outside world. Luke turned around as the carbon fires snuffed out in the entryway casting it with impending horror. Sparks frizzled from the dimmed hallway erupting from the base of the floor approaching ever closer to the primary chambers. The taunting chuckles grew louder as the sparkled floor forebodingly increased.

The ambient flames of light within the primary audience chamber glistened softly as their master entered. Slowly Tomen became embraced by the light streaking diagonally across his form. He held a weighty sword at his left side behind his figure, the sword point kissing the stone floor. Tomen's raven-emblazoned sharp claws grasped the blade's ancient hilt in a macabre formation of flesh-fused steel. He held his right fist open, curling his fingers to create a menacing appendage as his claws articulated with a steely clink with every motion of his digits. His towering frame stood over two meters encased in armor of an ancient alloy covered within his onyx robes. Tomen's mane draped across his shoulders accentuating his crimson painted lips and deep set eye sockets decorated with raven dyed eyeliner.

In this form he stood god-like, completed whole by the five components he educated Tera. Luke had no reaction to this being other than knowing that Tomen, this ancient Sith god blocked his way.

Tomen's booming contrabass echoed across his ancient home, "For eons I have existed, and only as a short breath of my time have you. My faculty will extend your par. I can make your death expedient, or you can die in unprecedented pain."

"You must be the Ancient One?"

"Your perception is humbling, Jedi. With your extinction complete, the true nature of the Sith prevails. You are the definitive obstacle. Now how do you prefer to die?"

"You're wrong," Luke proclaimed, he entered stride to approach Tomen's imposing physical stature. He stood taller than Luke remembered Vader, nearly as tall as two and half meters, "If you destroy me, the Jedi grow stronger in my absence."

This pleased Tomen forming a faint smirk upon his visage, "I will destroy them individually, one by one if I must. You are nevertheless mortal, Skywalker, you have no method to defeat me. Embrace death, it is only a matter of a little pain."

"Smug words," Luke challenged, drawing a grin across his face as he utilized the Force to pull Tomen's compendium from its resting place behind him next to the ancient throne. His right hand gripped tightly upon the tome and turned it to face Tomen.

"This compendium contains your sinister knowledge and any traces you ever existed. This book is your legacy. When it doesn't exist you have no worshippers and like any god without worshippers, they are forever forgotten."

"Bold threats, Jedi, can you live up to them?"

Luke clutched at his temples in pain, causing the ancient book to pound to the stone floor. He screamed in agony under the throbbing intensity pounding within his skull causing him to collapse to his knees. He squint his eyes as blood began to ooze from his tear ducts and nostrils. The Force slid Tomen's ancient work to his awaiting hands as he opened it an act to read. His ancient blade metaphysically attached against his hip. Tomen shed a pearly toothed grin as he reveled in Luke's morbid tortures.

"As the pressure pulses through your billions of neurons, I am voiding your soul of substance. In short, forming you into a transmutation as my servant."

Luke dropped to his right hip, the pain too intense to relax as his body convulsed across his spinal cords. The trembling agony spread through every nerve cell in his body starting at his medulla oblongata and continuing downward through each vertebrae penetrating through searing heat intensifying his metabolic functions causing his heart to beat faster. The nerves swelled upon his heart, pumping blood at an increased pulse.

He lay invalid, succumbed to the unbending nature of Tomen's powers. Tomen clutched his alloy covered left hand into Luke's woolen robes, tearing into them with the sharp cutlery that adorned his fingers. Tomen cruelly raised Luke to meet his face, clutching his book with his opposite hand. Luke struggled to maintain biological function, summoning the Force as best he could within the Force vacuum that encompassed his adversary.

"Your father was never meant to reproduce. Darth Plagueis perverted his alchemies when he created him and for that, his soul has paid the penance. Thousands of years' worth of meticulous alchemy and study created Anakin; all to be wasted with your creation. With your death, the Abomination of the Sith'ari, my people shall be cleansed of their hypocrisies and their vengeful spirits shall inhabit your galaxy consuming all living beings in horrific manners, one by one. Know this, Skywalker, I am the dark side and I am death."

Weakened, Luke exerted manifestations of the Force calling upon those of his past. He collapsed his mind into perpetual meditation. Sensing this, Tomen wielded the limp form with his single arm, tossing Luke's body against the far wall behind him tossing him like a used sack of food. Luke's spine cracked against the primeval stone causing him to slump limp to the ground in a seated, near dead position.

Bloodied and bruised, Luke focused on the Force as Tomen's influence began to cloud his mind in swirling winds of purple and blackened whirls. This was the struggle that Luke felt in Zayne, the lifeless void swallowing his will. He fought with the Force, removing himself from his physical body welcoming death.

As the Son of the Suns, prophesied by ancient Jedi scriptures, he prevented his physical body from disappearing as his Force spirit took shape. Tomen strode towards Luke's lifeless body and crouched. He grasped Luke's skull with his massive hands, pricking the cadaver's skin with his sharpened armor fingers. No blood trickled as Tomen knew the corpse was fresh. Tomen grinned, and forced the neck back into a slumped position nearly breaking it.

Tomen arose from his crouched position, smiling that his penultimate task was complete. His goal would begin; the resurrection of those dead in him to begin the consummation of the galaxy to bend to his will. There was a factor he could not have foreseen. Distancing himself from the Force as his body flat-lined, Luke was invisible to Tomen as a spirit. This was Revan's teachings; to detach from one's body to feign death and transcend the Force as a Force Ghost. Unlike the skill that Luke had already learned and observed from Yoda and Kenobi, this power from Revan allowed one to take form as if still living, capable of interacting with the physical plane in a state of perpetual immortality.

Luke placed an ethereal hand basked in a hue of bluish light upon Tomen's right shoulder, startling the Sith god.

"You're wrong, Tomen. In death, I am more powerful than you."

Luke violently released Tomen's scripture from his clutch, tossing it towards the far wall. Angered, the ancient god pushed Luke's spirit as it were a physical fighter sending his spirit through the ceiling. Luke manifested in a blur of azure light next to Tomen's volume. Praying upon the Force, Luke's spirit vanished. Tomen's form questioned Luke's abilities. No Force spirit can interact with the living as Luke has, as he knew and understood. But this fight was different, Tomen himself acted as a god, he was a god. In his arrogance of ages, he underestimated self-sacrificial resilience; he underestimated the knowledge his ancient enemies obtained.

Tomen's volume lifted from the floor and in response, his physical form collapsed to his knees. His hulking armor produced an audible clunk throughout the pyramidal temple. Tomen visually strained, his metallic fingers clutching at his face, scarring them with fresh tears of flesh, blood spilling from his wounds. His book spun in the air, flittering through the pages in an insane momentum. The cries of ancient dead wailed in ear-piercing echoes that permeated across the icy valley, across the mountainous regions and throughout the planetary system of Roth. Each soul consumed by the ancient god was released from his possession, forced out by the light penetrating his existence.

Amidst the internal chaos surrounding the ancient god's primordial soul, the spirit of Revan took precedence. Kneeling before the blonde visage of the final descendent of his adversarial clan, Tomen's voice strained, "No, Revan... the teachings of the Verdui clan culminate with Skywalker. No, impossible...I will live!"

By this moment, Tomen's face had been removed in strands of tissue, muscle and bone exposed to the elements with his eye sockets bubbling with white pus with the explosion of his oculars. His body slumped over, supported by his arms and knees while liquefied eyes dripped to the stone surface. Bloody evacuation vomited from his mouth simulating the pains he penetrated to his sufferers. A white glow washed over his ailing body, breaking through his orifices; eyes, mouth, nostrils and the millions of individual pores. His back drew erect as his remaining skull faced towards the ceiling interrupted by a sudden explosion of white from within sending shards of metallic fragments trickling throughout the primary chambers as the sounds of millions of slivering clangs.

Luke's body strained to consciousness, blood caked across his mouth and chin. Stubble began to form across his cheeks, and his extremities were slow to react to the sudden pulse of his heartbeats. Through a fogging haze that penetrated across his vision, he could nearly make out the millions of onyx shards littered across the floor. Across the room, Tomen's evil scripture remained paused, laid down upon the stone surface anticipating a new victim.

Luke quickly rose to his feet and in a quick blur, withdrew his lightsaber from his belt flying across the room in a grace of youth. A streak of blue plasma dropped into the ancient parchment, slicing the tome across the face, searing the pages clean through the middle. In chemical reaction, the book flared into a roasting flame, burning intensely.

Luke stood, reflecting in the fresh fires that consumed the vile scriptures. Tomen was gone, for now and posed no threat to the galaxy. Luke knew that as long as the dark side exists, Tomen was not forgotten. His ultimate secrets of the dark side were forever lost, Luke hoped. He also knew that ancient Sith may have forged his documents and taken credit. Their perversions and forgeries may never bring him back.

Orange flames reflected into Luke's eyes as the final soot of the book had been consumed. He felt a tug on his robes at his hip length. He glanced down and smiled. At his side, the blue glowing spirit of a little girl of the youngling age of six stood next to him. She had been characterized with disheveled hair and garbed in the robes of a Jedi Padawan. The spirit strained her neck to gaze at the taller Jedi Master; her spiritual eyes gleamed with delight as she motioned to hold his hand in playful excitement.

"Thank you, Master Luke," Tera's spirit exclaimed.

Luke returned her statement with a smile scarred with a cut across his cheeks. He made his way into the darkened hallway that exited towards the outside world. The glimmer of faint light from the dying star lighted the ancient walkway leading directly into the primeval antechambers as it rose upon the east. Dying glimmers tickled into the pyramid while Luke hobbled towards the exit.

He marveled at the ancient culture depicted upon the walkway, the ancient rituals of birth, life and death developed by Tomen's people. It was a shame, he thought, that such a race fell from the grace of their gods. Luke knew that Tomen's people were barbaric and cold-hearted; sacrificing their own to appease their gods before their cruelty led to their demise. Through the Force, he worked to heal his fresh wounds while he gazed with aging eyes at the violent feats of coming of age. Luke felt no time to study the civilization further; he had to return to Ossus to rejuvenate. Roth was tainted with the darkness of Tomen's soul. Any further examination would certainly lead to corruption and possibly eternal torment among the dark souls that resided here.

Luke approached the entryway and removed a small transponder from his robes. He pressed a button to activate the device to summon his StealthX to his rescue. In the distance behind him, the faint echoes of a child playing bounced off the ancient walls. He recognized Tera's voice amongst three others that reveled in the innocent joys of children's games. He wondered if his father had any time for such innocence as a slave boy on Tatooine. Luke closed his eyes to embrace the freezing winds blowing across his injured face while the silent hum of his spaceship's engines hummed in the distance.

Luke envisioned how Roth may have existed in a previous time. His vision led him to an ancient period, a time prior to Tomen's rise with the landscape of majestic mountains and palaces presiding over rolling hills and pleasant smells permeating from the meadows. He pictured a temperate climate, similar to his mother's planet Naboo. Icy winds penetrated his open wounds forming frost across his seared blood. The StealthX approached quickly, hovering just below the stair line below the primary entryway.

Luke mustered the Force through his weakened body and leapt towards his craft landing just behind the cockpit as his flowing robes slowly trailed behind him. He situated himself into a position for easy entry to seat upon his cockpit. He placed his gloves upon his hands and his lightsaber rested on the console beside him. He fitted the helmet upon his cap as the cockpit window slowly closed. The StealthX hovered and rose to an altitude above the capstone as he turned it to enter orbit.

Luke's craft rocketed away from surface to leave the acidic atmosphere in quick dispatch. The darkened pits of space lay before him as bolts of energy flickered in the distance to border the event horizon of the Galaxy. Using the Force, he guided his hands across the console to activate his navcomputer. Moments passed before the Force guided him to a safe hyperspace route. He took advantage of this moment as distant stars gleamed into a luminescent blur.


End file.
